Category Archives: doggy treats

Nooooooo, nooooo, noooooooo. Not THOSE.

THESE.

Cute, right?

But and what you can’t see, what the camera couldn’t capture, was the twin thin lines of wind blown drool streaming horizontal from their lipless mouths while Cutter and Tug hone in on Miss Carol’s pocket-o-biscuits.

Holy Haysoos. What a pair. You’d think we never feed them.

The dogs, I mean.

So.

There you are sitting at home alone ’cause Miss Carols’ gotta work on a Sunday and you’re hungry. Or maybe you’re a single dude and you just woke up and you’re trying to remember the chick’s name sleeping and snoring next to you and you’re hungry.

What’da you do?

You whip yourself up a quick Bacon Burrito Brunch.

It’s oh so easy and oh so satisfying and oh so impressive to the easily impressed. For two hearty burritos you’ll need four eggs, four slices of bacon, two slices of cheese (any kind’ll do), two tortillas, and some hot sauce.

And salt and pepper, but that goes without saying.

First off you start the bacon.

No, No, NO, wait just a sec– first you make the obligatory Bloody Mary. Brunch ain’t brunch without Bloodies.

The best tasting and easiest way I’ve found is to get you some of this.

Just pour some vodka over ice and add ZingZang. All the spices and stuff that you normally have to mix together are already in there so all you need to do is stir it with your finger and drink. If you really want to impress remove the label and tell her it’s your own secret recipe.

OK. So now you start the bacon. Put a frying pan on medium high heat and lay the slices in there when it warms up. While you sip your Bloody, looking cool and in charge, turn the bacon occasionally until it browns and then transfer it to a paper towel to soak up the grease while you cook the eggs.

Does everybody love bleary blurry food photos as much as me?

Good.

When the bacon’s done Miss Carol almost always gets ANOTHER frying pan down to scramble the eggs which is just plain silly. Instead, just pour some of the bacon grease into the sink, saving about half, and wipe any excess off the bottom of the pan with a paper towel and you’re ready to scramble you some eggs.

Sip some more bloodie lookin’ all chef-like and-

Turn the heat back on to medium high and crack four eggs into the hot grease. Don’t worry about whipping them in a bowl and adding milk and all that. This is much easier and much tastier.

But just as bleary and blurry.

After the egg whites have started frying add salt and pepper to taste and start stirring, being sure to scrape up the blackened bacon bits stuck to the pan. Let them set and stir. Let them set and stir until they’re as done as you want ’em and then turn them off.

Did I mention blurry?

Put a tortilla on a paper plate and pop it in the microwave for 30 seconds. When it’s warm soft mexican goodness, break a piece of cheese in half and place the halves down the center of the hot tortilla. Add half of the eggs, two slices of bacon, some hot sauce if you want and mix another Bloody Mary and voila’.

A Bacon Burrito Brunch for two or maybe just a Sunday pig out for one.

Regardless and whatever, the best part?

Clean up.

Sometimes I just gotta hug me I love me so much.

As an initiative is tough to beat.

Miss Carol proclaimed that it was Ladies Night this morning and then I forgot that that meant I had to cook for myself.

I forgot and then forgot again, and all the sudden, Mister Wonderful with His Mirrored Aviator Sunglasses had pulled up out front to pick up Miss Carol for Ladies Night in His Yellow Corvette.

He never comes in, just drives onto the lawn and toots his horn.

Miss Carol swears he picks them all up for Ladies Night but I can’t for the life of me reckon how they all fit into that little car.

But anyway.

After I got tired of waving goodbye and Cutter and Tug had slouched back into the living room I went to find something in the ‘fridge to make for dinner and to grab the carrots that’re Cutter and Tug’s bigtime treat.

As I was pawing through the refrigerator with them whining and wanting I found me some leftover ground beef, some cheese, and some tortillas.

And suddenly? I knew I was destined for glory- Oceandoggy cheesy beefy bean burritos.  Ooh baby.

What’s not to love?

So this is what I did. First I cooked up some pinto beans, they’re easy. Empty a can into a saucepan, season with salt and pepper and whatall and turn ’em on high for like 10 minutes max till they’re boiling and then turn ’em down to low.

As they heat moosh ’em with a spoon, kinda crushing the beans along the bottom and sides of the pan to soften them and make a beany gravy. You’ll know when you’re doin’ it right.

While the beans are cooking drink beer and watch TV. Cookings nice that way.

After about an hour of slurping Buds and mooshing beans put a fresh flour tortilla on a paper plate (yes I said paper-no clean up), put some cheese and leftover ground beef on ‘er and microwave her for about a minute.

Garnish with hot beans, roll it up, and slurp it down. It’s heart stoppingly sloppy but oh so damn good.

A couple of months ago (ok more than a couple) a Trader Joe’s opened in our part of the planet. We had always heard great things about Trader Joe’s from Miss Carol’s littlest seester who loves in California and knows about these things first hand, so we decided to go once the furor had died down somewhat. (The place was PACKED when it first opened)

A couple of weeks ago we remembered that a Trader Joe’s had opened and resolved to go and see what all the hubbub was about.

A couple of days ago we finally went.

I really don’t know what I was expecting, I mean it’s just a grocery store right?

Wrongo to the nth degree.

It’s more like a religion or a way of life or, or something. Trader Joe’s is to grocery chains what the Greatful Dead was to bands. Something you have to commit to and become a part of and embrace as you travel the magical aisles of all-naturalness with your fellow shoppers.

Who, by the way, are the same happily smug, self satisfied, birkenstock shod rainbow warriors that you see at a Greatful Dead show. Coincidence? I don’t think so. There they all are pushing their cute little red shopping carts jammed full of bottles of economically responsible Two Buck Chuck (which is very good by the way), dolphin friendly edamame, and free range peanut butter, feeling very superior to the likes of, well, me.

And the whole time they’re shopping, they’re reading every single ingredient on every single label of every single thing they’re thinking about purchasing, making sure that the foodstuff they’re considering has not in some way broken one of the gentle live and let live tenets which guide and nourish them on their path to nirvana.

Once your cart is filled with earth saving goodies you proceed to the checkout which deserves a visit in and of itself. No long conveyor belts expediting the checkout process here. No, no, no. One by one, each item has to be handed to the cashier so that she can scan it (whoops, they DO have scanners, I guess all the mechanical cash registers have been taken to museums or dumps) and then place it on the tiny little counter where someone else (a cashier assistant?) takes it places it in your special Trader Joe’s thematically approved, recycled paper bag.

And the whole time this is taking place both cashier people want to talk. I don’t mean the incidental small talk you usually exchange with cashiers, I mean in depth discussions about your purchases. I swear I aged months.

Honestly, though, if you can put up with the good natured snootiness of all the other hippies, the foods are really good and the prices are great so pull your tie-dyed t-shirt and birkenstocks out of the back of the closet and visit a Trader Joe’s near you.

It’s a hoot.

Really.

I had a weird thing happen to me today. All day long I was thinking it was Tuesday and that I’d exhausted the repertoire of meals I could cook for myself and that I’d either have to eat leftovers or go hungry until Miss Carol gets home Thursday night.

Then I happened to glance at my watch while I was working and noticed the date was a “2” and when I looked at a calendar later in the day the “2” corresponded with Wednesday and Miss Carol gets home on Thursday and all the sudden it was like Christmas in September.

WOOHOO.

So it’s cheeseburger night and the last night I have to cook and the last night I have to torture my reader with crappy pictures of simple food.

I think I just heard a faint woohoo from my reader. Thank you reader.

So anyway.

While the grill is heating up grab you a packet of Bubba’s Burgers. Without a doubt the best burgers you can buy. Totally unappetizing hockey pucks of uniformly frozen meat they undergo a metamorphosis while being grilled that is just short of amazing. Really. You can’t fuck these up.

Once the grill is good and hot toss them frozen hockey pucks on there and go get yourself a coldie. You deserve it.

After about three minutes or a couple a sips of beer, go back outside and season the burgers.

This is key. Seasonings are like free air. There ain’t no calories and there ain’t no guilt so let your seasoning flag fly. I like to sprinkle my burgers with Caribbean Seasoning, Coarse pepper, and Montreal Steak. You can do what you want. Just don’t be shy. It’s soooo good.

Flip ’em and season the other side and sip your beer and dream of molten hot mounds of meaty goodness.

After another couple of minutes and put the cheese on, close the grill and shut it off. As the cheese melts and the grill cools wonder why you don’t do this every day.

You can add what you will. I had these babies with sliced celery and avocado on the side and since I ate off a paper plate, I had this to clean up afterwards-

Sweet.

BTW- a variation on the cheeseburger is a goober burger. Cook the burger, slather mayonnaise on the buns and peanut butter on the burger.

Sounds totally gross but for some completely inexplicable reason the mish-mashup tastes really GOOD.

Miss Carol’s in San Francisco so I’m left to somehow fend for myself and Cutter and Tug.

Cutter and Tug are easy ’cause they eat the same stuff every day but I’ve been spoiled by Miss Carol’s cooking and honestly, really enjoy a different meal each evening.

I only make about four different things good so I’m glad that Miss Carol gets back on Thursday.

Tonight is Key Lime Chicken.

Disclaimerville- If you’re lookin’ for a lot a precise information on my super simple recipes you’re not gonna get it. These are way easy ways of making something good that you can’t fuck up. Really. If you do, you shouldn’t be cooking, in fact, you shouldn’t be around open flames. Eat at 7-11.

Back to the Key Lime. Get yourself some chicken thighs and or legs and or wings, but use dark meat. It’s greasier and lends it’s self better to the recipe. You’ll also need lemon pepper, limes and cold beer. Actually you don’t need the beer, it just makes every meal taste just a little bit better.

Crank up the grill. Coat the chicken in the lemon pepper and squeeze the first of several limes over it and toss ’em on the grill like a seasoned cook.

Open a beer.

Note- this is a really easy recipe but you gotta watch the chicken. You can’t just toss it on the grill and go inside and dance with the pretty girls. You’re gonna have to cook.

OK. Back again. Every 5 or 10 minutes flip the chicken, squeeze more lime, and add more lemon pepper. Don’t skimp, you’re slowly building a lemony, limey, peppery, salty, crust to the chicken.

Not to mention, you look like you know what you’re doin’.

Note- after you squeeze the lime and add the seasonings go ahead and suck the lime. It combats scurvy, makes your beer taste really good, and your breath’ll smell like Jimmy Buffett.

Cook the chicken till it’s done and serve with whatever. I had corn on the cob and a tomato but feel free to explore.

You can’t mess it up.

Time, yet again, for another photographically challenged doggy treat. Huevos Roryos. I love Huevos Rancheros, but unless you live in Mexico or California you can’t find really good refried beans. Or salsa. On the East Coast both are pretty pathetic so I started making mine with pinto beans and sausages instead.

Keep in mind that I only cook when Miss Carol doesn’t so my doggy treats are really simple recipes aimed at guys trying to stave off hunger. And I drink while I’m cooking so keep that in mind too.

Anyway, lets begin.

All the ingredients necessary for home alone fun. Hot sauce, eggs, beans, and beer. Woohoo. And lest I forget.

‘Cause pork makes EVERYTHING better. I’m starting to like the dreamy quality of my poor photography. Anyway, take a big dollop of pork and put it in a pan.

Appetizing, yes? Turn the heat up and cook the crap out of it. Really. Cook it like you forgot it. Cook it black. You want the texture, and believe you me it will keep it’s taste. Really. Go drink a beer, listen to some tunes and let it cook.

But don’t forget to start the beans. I like to pour the beans in a pan, turn ’em on high, and boil ’em for a little bit. Then turn it to low and add spices, ’cause there ain’t no calories in spices.

This stuff’s the best. It’s beautiful on everything. I’d use it on my toothpaste in the morning but I’m too damn lazy to walk downstairs and get it. Add lots to the beans. And maybe some to the sausages. And maybe sprinkle some on the kitchen counter and lick it off. Whatever.

And of course Old Bay. No meal would be complete without it. This is an East Coast staple. If you live somewhere they don’t sell it, move.

After about a beer, maybe two, the beans should be softened ’cause you’ve been periodically stirring them and mashing some of them along the sides of the pan during commercials or breaks between tunes.

And the sausage should be fairly burnt looking so crack three eggs over ’em and season with the Old Bay. Don’t be shy. Old Bay and eggs were meant to be together.

You can either cook the eggs sunny side up or flip ’em, but once they’re done ladle a bunch of the beans onto a plate and top them with the sausage encrusted eggs and grab a beer and a fork and push the dogs away and chow down baby.

I know it looks like blackened cancer swimming in a heart attack but it’s one of those strange mish mashes of taste and texture that really are just amazingly good. Like chocolate and peanut butter.

If you want to impress guests you can fry the eggs separately and either layer the thing or maybe have the eggs dancing around the sausages or serve it in a bowl and garnish it with something cute.

Just try it.

Tonight was Ladies Night.

Again.

It’s only supposed to be once a month but lately it seems like it’s way more frequent and as usual the guy with the mirrored sunglasses and hawaiian shirt came by to pick up Miss Carol in his Corvette. 

She says he picks up all the Ladies for Ladies Night. I don’t know where they all sit, but I’m guessin’ that’s a whole nother story.

So anyway, I decided to make my killer sausage and egg burritos for dinner. Warm fleshy burritos filled with, you guessed it, scrambled eggs and hot sausage- what’s not to love?

First I assembled the ingredients.

Whoa, waitey, waitey, just a minute, I lied- first I cranked the tunes. I have some Totems in the living room that are so cool that when I turn ’em up and sing along, I sound just LIKE Steven Tyler. Really. 

THEN I assembled the ingredients

I know the kitchen is kinda dark but the Bud Lights and Aerosmith help a lot. After cracking a coldie I browned the sausage which basically means cooking it in a pan until, well, it’s brown. Go figure.

When the sausage is nice and brownish add some eggs. And crack another coldie. And sing just LIKE Steven Tyler.

Ooh baby. Makes you wanta stop singing just LIKE Steve Tyler and eat but wait, there’s more. As the eggs start to cook stir it all together and add whatever spices make you wonder why the Corvette dude is picking up Miss Carol for Ladies Night. I love pepper and a Caribbean mix we found down in the BVI’s. If you want the info on it, email me.

While the eggs and sausages are coming together put a burrito in the microwave for 30 seconds. When it’s done scoop a bunch of your heavenly kick ass eggs and sausages onto the burrito.

A note to burrito newbies. Do this fold. Think of it as tucking them in.

Add hot sauce and roll it up. With the fold you can drink and sing and dance around your Miss Carol-less kitchen and not have your burrito goodness squirting out all over your faux hawaiian shirt. Not that that’s ever happened to me.

Life is goooood.

Welcome to our Michelle Obama Freedom Garden. After seeing the First Lady planting a garden on the First Lawn, Oceandoggy hastened to the Home Depot, not wanting to be caught at the wrong end of the food chain.

We got us some vegetables percolating. And hoo-boy, farming is thirsty work.

Beauty.

A week later and there’s a flushness that brings a throbbing to Oceandoggy’s heart.

But there’s also some confusion with maybe which plants are which, caused by either the thirsty work that is farming, or Miss Carol moving the little flag thingies around when Oceandoggy wasn’t looking. Like that’s funny. 

But we think we have it figured out and can’t wait to transplant our life sustaining garden and have it nourish us forever.

So WTF?

This is the pathetic-ness we came home to today. Miss Carol keeps saying that things are fine, that soon we’ll have tons of veggies ripe from our Michelle Obama Freedom Garden but I’m guessing that we’ll get the same old insect ridden tomato we always get.

Shit.

Miss Carol just got back from the grocery store and guess what? Bud Light has seen fit to honor oceandoggy for his fierce brand loyalty and voluminous consumption of their product.

See? There’s a wave on the new label and it’s blue, oceandoggy’s favorite color.

oceandoggy is some kind of overwhelmed.