Love is in the Air...Why is it so Cold...

I love February.

Oh sure, its grey outside. And cold.

This is what winter looks like on the Coast of Illinois

But think about it...

January is the worst. (Except for our daughter's birthday which is the BEST).

It's cold. It's grey. It's dark.

I mean, come on. I get up at 0530 – dark. I get off work at 1830 (6:30pm for you non-military/hospital peeps) – dark.

Try explaining this to our cat, who is dark grey and wants, no DEMANDS, to go outside in the mornings. The light and his coat are the same color and unless I turn on the nuclear reactor light by our back door – which the neighbors have sanctioned – he is invisible.

The month is THIRTY-ONE days long!!! That's THIRTY-ONE days of 'new diet and exercise' plans...in the dark...

But February...

Cold, grey February.

It's spelled weirdly which makes it fun to say – Feb- brew- airy!

It's only 28 days long. But sometimes it's 29. And then it's 28 again. Like a lottery power ball, or a Hollywood Starlet who just can't quite admit she's aging out of the high school cheerleader rolls.

Tiny green things begin popping up in the gardens after the evil January warm up which promptly turns into thunder snow-ice storm-even more frigid cold than before.

It is followed by March. Which is a pretty fickle month in and of itself, but in my brain calendar March is the revolving door to Spring, which once you manage to escape the rotating glass, puts you smack into April which is such a happy name that you just know things are looking up.

February plays host to two of my favorite events.

Groundhogs Day.

A day celebrating a fat mid-sized rodent.

Like all good, weird holidays, its roots are in religion. Candlemas to be exact. Which has exactly ZERO groundhogs in it.

February 2 is also our wedding anniversary.

Suffice it to say, NEVER let your fiance pick the date....

But after meeting in a airport disco on a Sunday night and several dates revolving around sky diving it just seemed appropriate.

please note, this is not me. these are my guys on our son's first jump and my husband's 50th.

 I have jumped zero times.

Of course, with that scene stealer Valentine's Day jacking up the roses and chocolate prices I have become accustom to anniversary gifts far less fragrant and delicious but way more meaningful.

Although I am not quite sure what meaning to assign the tickets to the dinner and burlesque show* which is our celebration this year...

The other great thing about February is Mardi Gras.

February always falls smack in the middle to end of this homage to fun.

Ah, Mardi Gras.

A holiday based on nothing but food and parties. The more debauchery the better.

It's probably a good thing I didn't grow up in Louisiana. I would have to take the entire Mardi Gras season off work.

We began throwing Mardi Gras parties when our kids were little. It seemed like a fun excuse to have friends over when no one could afford to go anywhere. Those little gatherings evolved into a full house of people complete with a Hurricane machine, pounds of fried alligator and a turkey fryer full of seafood.

We only host every other year now, it takes me so long to recover.

But by the end of the month on non-party years I am a little sad that I didn't bite the baby and fire up that deep fryer.

There is no expectation around Mardi Gras, besides good food. I cook nearly every day anyway. Why not just cook extra and have a few folks over...

That's such a simple way to let people know they are important to you. 

where do you get YOUR gator...**

Gumbo. Only way to make it is for a crowd...

And nothing makes a cold grey month better than filling your home with those people who are important to you.***

Laissez le Bon Temps Rouler!!

*http://theboomboomroomstl.com/ 

This is one of two burlesque supper clubs in ST. Louis. We go this evening, more to follow...

**https://www.cajungrocer.com/ 

I have ordered  gator and a variety of other mardi gras items from this site. always great products and service. 

***I should note - we are not doing the party this year. I am still recovering from last year and the Giant Jenga tournament which went with it...

nothing says party like 100 pounds of wood blocks

 

It's a disease, really...

It is officially the morning after.

The morning after our biennial Mardi Gras party. It use to be an annual party but let's face it, I am not as young as I was in 1999 when we started this thing.

There is a patio tent trying to launch in the cold February wind outside my kitchen window. Christmas party lights are strung throughout the entire upstairs. Giant Jenga lies in ruins on the basement floor. There is leftover alligator in my refrigerator and I am pretty sure the raccoons finished off one of the bottles of hurricane mix I forgot was on the deck.

And I am awash with the final stage of the Chronic Party Thrower: Amnesic Contentment.

This stage is defined by post party exhaustion, euphoria and delusional studying of the refrigerator calendar in search of the next potential party date.

However, to fully understand this 10^th and final stage of the Chronic Party Thrower, we must examine the first nine stages.

Idea Blossom: a seed is planted, probably after watching a fantastic party scene in a movie which takes root and finally blossoms into the vocalization of "I can totally throw a party even better and more fantastic than the chocolate birthday party scene in Chocolat. Let's do this!"

Guest List Agonization: Vocalization quickly leads to creation of a Facebook event page and a work flyer complete with clever illustration which also doubles as neighborhood invites – which I forgot to distribute. The guest list grows like a snowball rolling down a Warner Brothers Cartoon Mountainside as anyone claiming to be a dependent on a tax form, as well as immediate and extended family – both genetic and philosophical – add names to the list. 

Not only this year's invite logo but also painted on my basement wall - 'borrowed' from the Broadway Oyster Bar.

Supply Arrival Storage Shock: Waiting for RSVPs to begin rolling in is a rookie mistake. The MINUTE invites are mailed it is time to begin the supply order. Purchase a chest freezer to store perishables ordered from exotic locales such as Shreveport, La and Oriental Trading Company. Keeping a running list of forgotten items is essential. No one wants to be left without a mini drink umbrella. 

Yes. Gator. from http://www.cajungrocer.com/

apx 37 quarts of gumbo

Regimented Prepping Mode: It is essential that prep begins withing one month of the planned event. Cleaning must include closets, under cupboard storage and the interior of the washer and dryer. Creating an Excel spread sheet is helpful, but not necessary. Just let that tiny What Would Mom Say voice in the back of your head guide you. Do I need to dust behind the television? "Yes. If you care for your guests' comfort, you will naturally dust in places they will never look because what if they did?"

JoeyKatt does not approve of all the garland and vacuuming.

Doubt and Panic: This is a fluctuating phase. It may begin any time after the public announcement of the planned event and once established will intermittently continue until the final guest has departed the venue. This stage is defined by doubt over the actual arrival of any actual guests-counteracted by manic listing of current and potential RSVPs as well as a list of former dependable guests augmented with a list of guests which you are praying don't actually show which produces a guilt so strong that you run out and introduce yourself to ten more people then immediately invite them too. Fear that there will not be enough food-treated triggers repeat Target and SAM's club runs. Other symptoms may include over decorating, party favors in the likeness of Elvis and purchase of enough fabric to create matching outfits for the entire family, including the cat.

Restful Oblivion: The brief ninety minutes prior to the arrival of the first guests when you foolishly think you are finally and completely ready. The sufferer will kick back on the couch with a cup of coffee, a handful of M&Ms and -if this is a malignant infection – a book.

Last Minute Panic Prep: Best observed from afar, or the basement, this is the moment when the party planner realizes that in fact, the shrimp is NOT thawed, the corn for the boil has not been cleaned and there is no ice. None. 

This is me. Defrosting the shrimp. T-10 minutes to guest arrival. I am not smiling. I am gritting my teeth and wondering if I need a CAT scan.

Relax and Enjoy aka Have another Hurricane: Sadly, only advanced Party Throwers ever reach this stage and even then, most require one adult beverage over their self imposed limit to reach it resulting in that vague feeling that perhaps you DID sing background to Peaceful Easy Feeling...and then took the lead for the final, angsty verse.

Yes. This is Giant Jenga. There was also a complimentary helmet for when it reaches 5 foot. And it did.

Sleep Cleaning: Defined as manic cleaning of the entire house after the last guest has left; not all Chronic Party Throwers experience this phase. Prediction of potential sufferers can be determined by leaving two half empty cans of soda, a dirty coffee cup and a skillet used to saute chicken scattered around the house before bed. Those who are immune will go to bed and clean up next morning. Those infected with a mild case will empty and rinse the cans and place upside down in the dish drainer, fill the cup and skillet with warm water to soak before retiring. Terminal cases will rinse and drain the cans before placing in the appropriate recycle bins, scour the coffee stains from the cup, prep the coffee maker for next day and wash, dry and reorganize the pots and pans storage area before putting the skillet away. Attempts to treat this stage with more alcohol will only result in deep resentment the following morning. And no delicious left over potato hash.

This leads to the final and aforementioned stage:

Amnesic Contentment: Best defined as a complete, all encompassing desire to relive the entire event, from first guest arrival to delivery of the final Hurricane. Stories are told and retold, Facebook photos are shared and a pleasant melancholy satisfaction exudes from every pore leaving the Chronic Party Planner to suddenly remember that she failed to put the mini drink umbrellas by the Frozen Concoction Maker and now she is stuck with a gross of mini drink umbrellas which are just screaming for a new party in which to adorn guests tropical beverages...where's my calendar...

Oops.

Sorry.

As a chronic sufferer of Chronic Party Planning, you might wonder just what spurs this insane behavior on?

I have done some deep reflection and I believe there are several motivating factors.

1. It is the dead of winter and nothing warms the heart more than a house covered in holiday lighting.
2. It is unbelievably fun to tell people you have 10 pounds of alligator in your fridge.

And finally:      

                           3. What better way to let the people that you see every day, as well as those you only see occasionally, that they are valued as an important part of your life.

Truly.

If I could, I would invite every single person I know – in real life and internet life- to our Mardi Gras Party. Because Life's too short not to try alligator while sipping a Hurricane and waiting for your turn at Giant Jenga on the Coast of Illinois.

Laissez le Bon Temps Rouler!!

Video courtesy of my Dad. 

See you all...next time! 

OOPS -  as promised - here is the GUMBO recipe: 

Saute in a heavy saucepan or dutch oven:

1 diced onion

1 diced bell pepper

2Tbs olive oil or butter

After 2 minutes sprinkle with Tony Cacherre Cajun Spice (available in the seafood aisle)

Stir and then allow to cook undisturbed over medium heat for 2-3 minutes. 

Stir, scraping the bottom of the pan - it will look slightly burned. but don't worry.

Add 1 large 32oz  can crushed tomatoes and 6cups chicken broth along with another 1-2 Tbs of the Cajun spice. 

Simmer on low for 15 minutes.

Add 2-3 cups of shredded, cooked chicken.

        (This time I cooked the chicken breasts in the crock pot for 4 hours with a very liberal sprinkling amount of Cajun Spice. Alternately, you can bake the chicken with spice on it or even use canned or rotisserie chicken if in a hurry. Just be sure to add more Cajun Spice.)

Allow to simmer slightly covered over low heat for as long as possible but for at least another 15 minutes 

You can also add sausage, shrimp, crab or my favorite - Krab, with a K. (Fake crab legs).

Serve with a scoop of rice.  

Laissez le Bon Temps Rouler...until the Hairnets show up...

I purchased a brand new Deep Fryer on Friday. (smirk) Because, you can't fry eight pounds of alligator in a Fry Baby with three legs.

It seems almost politically incorrect to admit that I ever fry anything. But in my defense, I only use vegetable oil AND the deep fried food which prompted this discussion is for a celebration with the word FAT in its name.

That's right. Fat Tuesday. Mardi Gras.

Now, let's clarify a few things.

I am not from New Orleans. Or Louisiana. Or Rio de Janiero for you Carnivale fans.

I was not raised in a household which gave things up for Lent.

And yes, I did say eight pounds of alligator.

Just where do you get eight pounds of alligator?

(Not the weirdest question I have ever been asked.)

Surprisingly, gator is readily available here on the Coast of Illinois.* However, before I realized that we ordered it online from CajunGrocer.com. And as I am mostly brand loyal, I continue to order from them. They promise prompt delivery of humanely raised, hand fed gator which is massaged daily and when gastronomically euthanized the skin is turned into the finest shoes for underprivileged cowboys.

I may exaggerate a little.

CajunGrocer.com does offer tenderized one pound packets of frozen gator tail meat packed in dry ice and delivered within three to five business days. They also offer a multitude of other Mardi Gras and every other day Louisiana type food products. 

The City Boy gator costs $3 more a pound and is more rat than gator.

But why? Why would you need eight pounds of alligator?

um...twelve pounds of gator...

You see, we throw a Mardi Gras party nearly every year and nothing says Let's Celebrate the Beginning of Holy Season and/or It is Almost Spring and Maybe This &^$(#& Snow Will Go Away like deep fat frying a huge reptile. 

Plus, my family LOVES gator. So eight pounds go to the party, two pounds go to the family immediately after the party and two more pounds sit in my freezer until I get sick of moving the packages around and fry them too.

And this year frying all that gator was a delight. Because I have a new Deep Fryer. Step aside Fry Baby and make room for the Lipitornator!

This baby comes with a removable mesh basket, a thermostat, a lid to control the spatter and it breaks down into five pieces for easy cleaning. Never has it been so easy to make food that will clog your arteries and make party goers shout 'Huzzah!'

(There may have been one 'huzzah'.)

Part of our decorations. What you can't see are the 700 strands of lights strung all around the ceiling of the entire upstairs which won't be taken down until sometime in May because honestly, they are just so festive.

There was definitely gator at this year's party. There was also gumbo, jambalaya, a shrimp boil, killer crab cakes, fruit plates and salad, crusty bread, hurricanes, Cajun meatballs, shrimp stuffed crescents, fancy sandwiches, hurricanes, key lime cake and chocolate cake and hairnets. 

Yes.

Hairnets.

This is me, in a hairnet. After two hurricanes, mind you. And I am not laughing. It is more of a cry for help.

 At last count forty seven hairnets.

I left the kitchen for five minutes and returned to find a hairnet on EVERY guest as well as on every inanimate object in every room of the house. 

Mardi Otter was just minding his own business.

I love our friends.

And that is why we have the Mardi Gras party. And fry all that gator.

Because nothing says 'you all mean a lot to us' like deep fried reptile.

And Hairnets.

Actually, the Coast of Illinois has a long tradition of celebrating Mardi Gras. The Soulard neighborhood of St. Louis has the second largest celebration (next to New Orleans) in the United States. There may be some debate but all you other cities can forget about it. Soulard has been around since before Lewis and Clark and is the closest thing to the French Quarter you can get. Plus, we have the Mississippi River. So neener. 

 

The 'Parade Marshal' designation was a little misleading. Only two more years and I will be allowed back on the parade route.

I worked the parade one year when the hospital I worked for was asked to run the first aid tent. This was early in the history of Soulard Mardi Gras. The biggest injury we had to deal with was when one of the other nurses nearly ran over her own foot playing with the golf cart they let us use for emergencies. We did see some bare boobs, it was Mardi Gras after all. And the Mardi Gras association provided the most amazing buffet for volunteers in the upstairs of Soulard Market.

I had no idea the market had an upstairs. But the market does have Frendeka's Meats and Pet Shop which sells gator. And bunnies.

But the live ones are at the Pet Shop. Which is at the other end of the market...

(If you have the time and curiosity, click on each  'hairnet' reference. I am constantly surprised by how often my friends and I have seen random hairnets and even more surprised at how often I have written about them. Also - the pics of Otter and me in the hairnets were courtesy of my friends Mel and Joy, videographers extraordinaire.)