Eggplant From The Garden and Some Advice On Not Letting The Fleas Gain Control

    It's now fall and the final produce is being harvested from the garden.  Eggplant Involtini is a wonderful dish for those who are not crazy about this vegetable.  Serve it with a nice Malbec.

 Italian Eggplant Involtini 

2 eggplants (1 pound each)

olive oil

2 teaspoons kosher salt

3 cups of marinara sauce

1/2 pound of thin spaghetti

20 fresh basil leaves, chopped

8 ounces ricotta cheese

1/2 pound of smoked mozzarella cheese

     Slice the eggplants lengthwise into 3/8-inch thick slices. You should get 8 slices from each eggplant. Brush some olive oil on the eggplant slices and place under the broiler for 4-5 minutes per side.

     Bring the water for the pasta to a boil, add salt to taste, and cook the pasta until al dente. When the pasta is ready, drain, and toss with half of the tomato sauce and half of chopped basil, stirring until the pasta is well coated. Preheat the oven to 400 F.

     Coat the bottom of a baking dish with a thin layer of tomato sauce. Put a slice of the cooked eggplant on a plate. Place a few strands of spaghetti on top of the eggplant slice; the strands should drape over the slice on both sides.Add some ricotta cheese over the pasta and roll the eggplant slice around the pasta and cheese. Place the roll in the baking dish.

  

When all the rolls are in the baking dish pour a little of the sauce over them and sprinkle the remaining basil on top. Place a slice of smoked mozzarella on top of each roll. Dot the top of each roll with a little more sauce. Bake for 20 minutes until the cheese melts.
Serves 8

And Now For Some Advice

More Information about Mellow Out--Lessons Learned From Household Cats can be found by clicking here 

From Chapter 13

Be strong in life. Just know some people will mistake your kindness as weakness because you care for them. They will take advantage of you and want to use you. Don't worry too much about them, because those people are never pleased or grateful.--De philosopher Dj Kyos

Don’t Let The Fleas Gain Control

Life is full of minor irritations. If you call the telephone company or an investment company with a very general, simple question, you get an answering system that requires you to provide your name, address and the last four digits of your social security number, and then you are put on hold until someone answers the call. The telephone solicitors are always calling asking for money, religious people knock at your door selling God, then there are the men “working their way through college” by selling items and finally the Girl Scouts come calling.

Before I go on, I must make a full disclosure. I actually wait in anticipation for the Girl Scouts to come. I dream about Samoas—a crisp cookie coated in caramel, sprinkled with toasted coconut and striped with dark chocolate. Sorry for the digression. Taken individually, all of these situations are quite minor, but collectively they are very harmful, much like the bites of fleas on the cats.

The weather is getting warm, and the cats are starting to scratch. It is painful to watch the fleas attack. In the past, Samantha has had marks around her lips from the fleabites. The Mitzer just jumps around as she attacks the fleas. For some reason, the fleas don’t like Chubby, so she does not suffer.

When we see those tell-tale signs, it’s time for Frontline. I apply it to the back of each cat’s neck and the medicine works its way through the fur, killing the eggs and the adult fleas. Within a day or so, the itching stops and the cats are good to go for another month. The fleas have met their match.

There isn’t a human Frontline to solve our fleabite problem from telemarketers, religious recruiters, door-to-door salesmen and corporate answering systems. So the best solution is a full frontal attack.

During the 1970s, I owned a mail order business where I published a newsletter with tips on how to teach reading and English as a Second Language. The two inside pages of the newsletter were filled with the products that we were selling—The Phrase Reading Kit, Multicultural Stories, The Spanish Oral Reading Test and Multicultural math posters. We were selling these products because we were passionate about educating people to use the cutting-edge materials we developed.

The problem with our business was that we were undercapitalized, and we ended up having to borrow from a credit card. We tried to get a better rate, but the bank wouldn’t comply. It was time for a full frontal assault to bury those money-sucking fleas.

How do you fight a bank? Well, I decided to write to the bank president’s mother. So I crafted a letter and explained to her that I was a teacher and I knew many kids like her son. These kids would hoard their marbles and not let the other kids play. I told her that I was sorry that he never learned to share. Then I told her how much my family was suffering because I had to pay such a high interest rate. When I finished the letter, I put it in an envelope with a note asking the Bank President to give my letter to his mother.

A few weeks later I received a copy of a letter addressed to the Bank President’s mother.

Dear Mom,

No matter what this man thinks, I Iove you and you did a great job in raising me.

He went on to tell his mother that by law he could charge those outrageous interest rates. I didn’t have much luck with this man.

On another occasion, I wrote to another bank president and explained how our partnership was changing the world. He provided the leadership and being a long-term customer, I had provided lots of his cash because of the exorbitant interest charges. I pleaded for him to reduce interest rates for customers who had been with the bank for several years. Much to my surprise, he agreed and the bank developed a new interest level for long-term customers. My full frontal assaults landed me a 50% success rate, and at least I had a good story from the failure.

Whether it’s fleas or people trying to sell you stuff, you have to take action. As my cats taught me, you have to do a Frontline Attack to keep the fleas under control.

Mexican Style Fish And Some Advice About Being Macho

 

Red Snapper, Veracruz Style 

This dish captures the flavors of  the  indigenous, ethnic Spanish and Afro-Cuban influences in this area of Mexico. The snapper is covered with a tomato sauce and the capers, and jalapeño peppers provide an extra bite. Serve this dish with white rice. The recipe is a modified version of one  found in Bon Appetit.

Serves 6

1 28-ounce can diced tomatoes in juice, well drained, juices reserved
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 cup finely chopped white onion
3 large garlic cloves, chopped
3 small bay leaves
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1/4 cup chopped pitted green olives
2 tablespoons raisins
2 tablespoons drained capers
6 4- to 5-ounce red snapper fillets

Place drained tomatoes in medium bowl and crush them to a coarse puree. Drain again, reserving juices.

Heat oil in heavy large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion and stir 30 seconds. Add garlic and stir 30 seconds. Add tomato puree and cook 1 minute. Add bay leaves, parsley, oregano, garlic and 1/4 cup reserved tomato juices. Simmer until sauce thickens, about 3 minutes. Add olives, raisins, capers, and all remaining reserved tomato juices. Simmer until sauce thickens again, stirring occasionally, about 8 minutes. Season sauce to taste with salt and pepper.

Preheat oven to 425°F. Spread 3 tablespoons sauce in bottom of 15x10x2-inch glass baking dish. Arrange fish atop sauce. Sprinkle fish lightly with salt and pepper. Spoon remaining sauce over. Bake uncovered until fish is just opaque in the center, about 18 minutes. 

An Excerpt From My Newest Book On Cats

In a male-dominated environment, things are very macho, and you can't show weakness

Hyder Akbar

Macho Guys Finish Last

We live in a culture where we have to be strong—macho. When in doubt, send in the police and the military. If the police are needed in a civilian action, be sure they are well-armed with shields, tear gas and items needed to subdue the crowd. The United States Army has been providing military weapons to local police forces, so it is not uncommon to see armored vehicles, bayonets, grenade launchers and .50-caliber ammunition as part of the police arsenal. In recent years, there have been peaceful demonstrations and the police have treated the participants like they were enemy combatants. In some cases, the police have tear-gassed or pepper-sprayed the protesters, and beat others with clubs.

Often we see scenes on cop shows where unarmed civilians are on one side and the police are on the other, carrying shields and weapons, or we see twenty armed policemen with battering rams and shields racing into an apartment to arrest one individual. It seems in a civilized society, the police would negotiate, but here—no way. In our media and in real life, the police have to be macho.

Bringing this closer to home, on January 5, 2011, the Monterey County Sheriff’s SWAT team descended on the property of a 31-year-old father of four. They drove an armored vehicle into his yard, and a team of paramilitary enforcers surrounded the property with the intent to extract the man or kill him if necessary.

The Sheriff’s Department mistakenly believed that this man may have been a suspect in a non-fatal shooting. However, he was not involved in the shooting and was unarmed in the house. Officially, the police were just going there to execute a search warrant on the property.

In the execution of this search warrant, the SWAT team launched a military-style operation. With their troops in position, they demanded surrender through a “thunder hailer” megaphone. The man remained in his home, so the raid team broke his front window and threw a flashbang grenade into his living room. The grenade lodged itself between two couches and quickly caught them on fire. The flames then led to a nearby Christmas tree and escalated to the ceiling.

An officer holding a fire extinguisher immediately halted his attempts to extinguish the fire when they saw someone in the home. SWAT officers drew their weapons and pointed them at the man, who was standing in his smoky living room, wearing only shorts and holding nothing in his hands. They refused to put out the fire or help the man leave the house.

The man succumbed to the toxic smoke filling his house and died of asphyxiation in his bedroom, leaving his four children without a father. Later, the Sherriff called the actions of the deputies heroic, and the family eventually settled their suit against the county for 2.6 million dollars. The deputies were never punished for their behavior.

This whole macho thing is reinforced by the courts. You receive what you believe to be an unwarranted traffic ticket, and you decide to fight it. In Santa Clara County, CA, a letter comes with the date and time of your court appearance. The commissioner who will hear the case is on a raised platform. First, everyone promises to tell the truth. Then, the commissioner will ask defendants one at a time how they want to plead: innocent, guilty or no contest. If you plead guilty, the commissioner will suggest traffic school and, of course, you have to pay the fine plus more money to attend the school. For a fee of $30, you can have extra time to pay the ticket; for $35, you can do an installment plan. If you don’t show up, then a $300 service fee is added to your fine. A fix-it ticket costs $25.00, and the same amount is due if your ticket is dismissed. This moneymaking operation is in full swing. Those people pleading innocent will be scheduled for a trial.

I watched 37 trials. In 13 of the trials, the policemen did not show up. If the defendant hadn’t shown up, there would have been a $300 fine, but there’s no punishment for the police. Everyone was found guilty in the trials I attended, with three exceptions. One ticket was from 2007 and the officer had lost his notes, so he asked that the case be dismissed. In the second case, the officer sent a note that it should be dismissed in the interest of justice. In the last case, the woman was incarcerated when the ticket was issued, so obviously she could not have also been receiving a ticket on a light rail train. In every other case, the police had to win.

My cats have a better idea. As I have mentioned before, they stake out a mole hole or an area where there are birds and mice. Chubby will start and sit perfectly still for an hour or so, then the Mitzer will take her place. They understand the idea of cooperating. Suddenly, the cat on duty will pounce and successfully catch a small bird a mouse or a mole. Then, they bring the dead animals into the house as gifts. There’s no macho behavior involved. Cooperation is the key.

One time, there was a horrible smell in the house. I moved the piano and found a decaying mouse. Last week, there was a mole and a small bird under the dining room table. My cats cooperate with each other, catch the prey and then provide a gift to me. Not totally flawless, but it’s a great system.

Barack Obama understands the theory that my cats are using, and he has been the first president in recent history to choose negotiation and cooperation over military action. His Iran deal is the perfect example of this theory in action. Over the objections of Israel, the United States plus seven other countries cooperated together and were able to forge a deal so that Iran wouldn’t be able to develop nuclear weapons. In fact, during January 2016, Iran’s nuclear stockpiles were shipped to Russia. Negotiation proved to be much more effective than being macho. Unfortunately, Obama has been rebuked and hated by many of the people in this country. The gift he has given to the American people is not to be involved in another ground war.

Typically in negotiations, both sides come in with unreasonable positions and then, through discussion and sometimes workplace actions, both sides finally agree to a solution. This is the macho process where the leader of each side has to appear tough.

There is a better way, as Obama has demonstrated; it’s called interest-based bargaining. The first step in a negotiation is to break up the items into smaller pieces. Then, you start with the least controversial parts. Both sides look at what they really want and what they can give up until an agreement is reached on that issue. As they go up the ladder trying to solve more difficult issues, trust is built, and if all goes well both sides will reach a compromise on the main item. This method is far superior to the macho method. In fact, this method was used at Camp David in 1978 to sign a historic agreement between Egyptian President Anwar El Sadat and Israeli Prime Minister Menacham Begin. In life, we have to value teamwork and drop our macho stance.

As my cats have shown, being macho doesn’t get you much. Instead figure out what you really want, work as a team and make sure everyone is a winner.

A Dish For The Back-To-School Potluck and A Comment About Love

 Egg, Bacon, and Leek Pie 

     
The school year has begun and many places have a potluck to convince parents to help with 
the various activities held throughout the year. Since there is a natural competition especially
between mothers this is not the time to bring bean dip or take-out from the Whole Foods 
Market.  You can have everyone raving with this simple Irish pie from County Clare. Make
a second one for home use and serve it with a nice Syrah.

6 Servings

1 refrigerated piecrust (half of 15-ounce package), room temperature

1 teaspoon all-purpose flour

2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) butter

2 cups chopped leeks (white and pale green parts only)

1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley

6 slices bacon, cut into 1/2-inch pieces

3 large eggs

2/3 cup whipping cream

1/3 cup milk

1/4 teaspoon salt and pepper

1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg

    Procedure needs to be followed at all times. The first step is to open the wine bottle 

and pour a glass. Now, you are ready to begin

      Preheat oven to 425F. Pierce crust bottom all over with fork. Bake until pale golden, 

about10 minutes. Set aside. Reduce oven temperature to 400°F.

     Melt 2 tablespoons butter in heavy, medium skillet over medium heat. Add leeks and 

parsley; sauté until beginning to soften, about 3 minutes. Spoon mixture into crust. Cook 

bacon in the same skillet until crisp. Using a slotted spoon, transfer bacon to paper towels and 

drain. Sprinkle bacon over leeks.

     Beat eggs, cream, milk, salt, pepper, and nutmeg in small bowl to blend; pour into crust.

 Bake pie until filling is set in center, about 25 minutes.

 And now a lesson about love from my cats--Samantha and The Mitzer

We are most alive when we’re in love.

John Updike

Chapter 6

Love Is Overrated

It starts when we are teenagers. We see someone that we like, and we can’t think about anything else. Our bodies tingle when we see this person. We can’t sleep. Our thoughts only focus on this special one. We become jealous because this individual can’t spend every waking moment with us. Even though it may be just physical attraction, we proclaim from the rooftops that we are in love and then proceed to do crazy things. This condition may occur several times during our lifetime and it is always hard to overcome. What is this thing we call love?

Samantha needs to be loved. So, I’m sitting on my recliner and watching Jeopardy, totally relaxed with a glass of wine. All of a sudden, Samantha has to jump up and sit on my lap and purr very loudly. It’s so bad that when the Mitzer in sitting on my legs, Samantha will come and sit on my chest. Of course, when the commercial comes on, I decide to take a bathroom break, and I move the Mitzer to the couch without incident, but Samantha screams. This also happens when I’m sitting in my office chair—she has to jump up on my lap. At night, she has to sleep next to me. I sleep on my back and Samantha sleeps on my right side, facing the bottom of the bed. My hand sits on her back. It must be that she loves me dearly.

However, when I am not available during waking hours, she jumps up on my wife’s lap and the procedure is repeated. The cat always has to have someone touching her.

The thing we don’t understand is that when we have company—especially someone that doesn’t like cats—Samantha jumps into his or her lap. She acts like a cheap whore, and we are embarrassed. This behavior became so bad that we consulted an expert. The reason, it seems, is linked to another common cat behavior. When cats discover a new piece of furniture or enter a room for the first time, they will brush along the walls and go up, down, around, behind and underneath everything in sight. While the uninitiated might interpret this in-depth maneuvering as mere curiosity, the cat is actually marking its territory.

This territorial nature is also what drives cats to rub up against any and all visitors who enter their home. (They will also often go to the trouble of “reclaiming” their own people when they’ve been around other cats.) What might seem like a “welcoming home” ritual is, in reality, a way of making their owners and everyone else around them the cat’s personal property.

When I heard about this concept, I was devastated. I thought that Samantha and I had a very special relationship, but her affection was all about marking her property. We men are very aware that many women complain that their husbands treat them as objects, and so we take special precautions to keep this from happening. Now I know that is exactly how my cat feels about me. I don’t feel special anymore—I am just an object. However, my wife doesn’t feel this way. She is sure that Samantha is different from the other cats.

My wife has a strange view about love. On Monday night for two hours, she is glued to the television, watching The Bachelor or The Bachelorette. In these shows one woman (Bachelorette) or one man (Bachelor) has to whittle down a field of twenty-five men or women to find perfect love. For fourteen weeks we (not by choice, for me) watch as the main character reacts to persons of the opposite sex in some of the most romantic places in the world. The background music enhances the event, and at some point, the main character has kissed all of the contestants.

Finally, the group gets whittled down to the final four, and the production crews move to the hometowns of this group so that the main character can meet the families. There is a date, and the main character can take each of the four contestants into the fantasy suite where they spend the night without cameras. The main character then picks the perfect person, and at the last minute in some incredibly romantic place, the bachelor proposes to his future bride or the bachelorette accepts the proposal from the man that is left. The whole thing is so wonderful, and the chat boards are busy because everyone has an opinion about who should get the ring. This is a true affirmation that romantic love exists…until you look at the statistics.

There have been 19 seasons of The Bachelor and only two couples are still together. As for The Bachelorette, it has been on for ten seasons and only three couples are still together. This shows that something else was going on instead of true love.

My cats have the right idea: what looks like love may not be love at all. So, if you are a man and meet your “true love,” keep your wallet in your pocket until you are absolutely sure that it’s love.

Lean more about this  wonderful book.