Like why do good things happen to bad people?
And why can't money can't buy happiness when we all know it can rent it?
And if Time is such a great healer, why does it kill all of it's pupils?
And why didn't anyone tell me my skirt was on backwards until AFTER my class this morning?
And why do mainlanders think SPAM is a four letter word?
Kristina P.'s last post was complete and utter blasphemy.
Kristina P!!!! For goodness sake, you don't put mustard on SPAM then shove it between two pieces of WHITE bread! (Or haole bread as we call it in Hawaii.) Don't you mainlanders know anything?
You bathe SPAM in rich, zesty soy sauce, gently lay it to rest on a fluffy bed of rice then tuck it in with a piece of succulent seaweed.
It's called musubi, peeps. Everyone knows that! (Except for those of you who DON'T know that.)
Let me attempt to be the Pioneer Woman of the Pacific and show you the recipe.
Here are the key ingredients:
You all have soy sauce right? (If not, you can lift it from your local diner.) The only items you will have to go out of your way to find are:
Seaweed (and shaka). (Always better when they're together.)
A musibi maker, which you can pick up for .99 at your local Longs Drugstore. (Or at least at MY local Longs Drugstore.) If it starts to crack you can hold it together with a sturdy rubber band. (Even a flimsy rubber band will work if you don't have a sturdy one.)
Oh, and don't forget the rice.
A 25 lb. bag of NO.1 extra fancy California calrose works best.
Oh, and some SPAM and PAM.
A good way to remember how to make musubi is to think: First PAM then SPAM then CRAM then JAM.
A lot of the mysteries of the universe rhyme like that.
First spray the musubi maker with PAM so the delicate seaweed wraps don't tear.
Then gently boil your SPAM in soy sauce . . .
until they form a lovely caramelly glaze.
Tenderly place the succulent seaweed wrap into the musubi maker.
Now cram in one layer of fluffy rice.
Topped by two pieces of zesty soy glazed spam.
Topped again by one more layer of fluffy rice.
Then JAM it, baby! Jam it down as hard as you can.
Normally a jammer is included with your .99 musibi maker, but I used my husband's hands because he's a former hand model.
Now would you rather cram it or jam it down your throat? Totally up to you.
P.S. Speaking of would you rather. It appears my hub read my post about our near divorce, which incited a heated argument. He claims that he said he would rather live with two ostriches than 12 Benjamin Buttons. Apparently I misunderstood him.
"Why would I want to live with 12 OLD people?" he keeps insisting. (Not a very politically correct thing to declare out loud if you ask me!)
You should always keep your prejudices to yourself.
That's what I always say.
P.S.S. I just thought of one more mystery to ponder. Why in the world would Wolfgang post a video of himself on his blog screaming like a little girl while his girlfriend waxes his chest? Ewwww. I'm washing my mind out with soap right now.