Cooking with Rod

By Rod Cohenour 

 

Chocolate Raspberry Mousse

Well, it's the Fall season, Halloween just past and Thanksgiving just around the corner. My better half and I have been scratching our heads trying to figure out great new desserts. Our challenge? To find a recipe with no eggs to accommodate a nephew with severe egg allergies. We played around for awhile and came up with an absolutely fabulous dessert: Chocolate Raspberry Mousse that will knock your socks off!

Most chocolate mousse desserts are based on a frothy mixture of rich chocolate thickened with egg yolks beaten to a creamy blend with melted butter using egg whites whipped to firm peaks to fold into the mousse. This would not work for our needs.

My sweet mate did her research, then reached into her old recipe box to create a good way to achieve the rich flavor, the foamy texture, and a diverse blend of tastes to excite both the eyes and the palate. I think she did a great job. One source of inspiration came from a blog that featured a traditional chocolate mousse enriched with espresso. If you can add espresso, surely you can add raspberry puree, right?

Here's where we found the inspiration: Dark Chocolate Mousse with Expresso. Jen Reviews

Try both methods, but most important, dare to test your own creativity and ...

Bon appetit~!!
Chocolate Raspberry Mousse
Melinda Cohenour – October 2018
INGREDIENTS:

• 12 oz. can evaporated milk
• 2 tsp. Almond extract (use 1 tsp. for whipped milk and 1 tsp. for puree)
• 1/4 cup Powdered Sugar
• 6 oz. pkg. Sugar Free Raspberry Jell-O
• 8 0z. Pkg. Cream cheese, softened
• 12 oz. Pkg. Semi-sweet chocolate chips to melt
• 2 Tbsp. Milk
• 12 oz. Fresh or frozen sweetened raspberries (must have nice, firm berries for garnish)
• 8 oz. Pkg. Toasted slivered almonds
• 1 bottle Hershey’s Chocolate sauce
• Ground Cinnamon

INSTRUCTIONS:

1. Make raspberry Jell-O per box instructions. Allow to thicken and firm without being fully set (but not watery). Chill evaporated milk in large mixing bowl in freezer for at least thirty minutes and chill beaters in freezer. The milk should have formed a few ice crystals around the edge and bowl and beaters should be quite cold. Do not remove until ready to whip (see instructions below.)

2. Fresh raspberries: Place half in saucepan with sugar, cook and stir until they break down into a puree. Put puree through strainer to remove all seeds. Save best raspberries for garnish.

3. OR Frozen sweetened raspberries: Thaw, strain to remove all seeds. Retain all pureed berries, mashing if necessary. Save best berries for garnish.

4. Melt chocolate chips or pieces in microwave with small amount of milk. Stir occasionally. When melted stir in raspberry puree and almond extract. Set aside.

5. Remove slightly frozen evaporated milk, bowl and beaters from freezer. Beat evaporated milk in large mixing bowl. It will whip like whipped cream and will almost triple in volume so be sure to use your large mixing bowl. After beating with chilled beaters for about 30 seconds, add half of powdered sugar and 1 tsp almond extract. (Powdered sugar contains a small amount of cornstarch which helps to firm up the whipped cream.) Evaporated milk should whip to form firm, soft peaks and resemble a good whipped cream. Jell-O should be just set and neither hard nor watery. Begin adding small amounts of the Jell-O to whipped evaporated milk. Continue until all has been added. Set this in fridge until ready to fold in chocolate mixture.

6. Chocolate-raspberry-almond mixture should still be warm. If not, microwave until just warm. Whip softened cream cheese and fold into chocolate mixture.

7. Now fold chocolate almond mixture into Jell-O/whipped evaporated milk mixture. When beautifully blended, spoon into parfait glasses. Sprinkle lightly with ground cinnamon.

8. Garnish with fresh raspberries, drizzle with chocolate sauce. Sprinkle toasted slivered almonds on top. Serve chilled or warm, but only garnish just before serving.

Look for us in December! See pic below.

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Sifoddling Along

By Marilyn Carnell

Driver’s License Stories

       For most people getting a driver’s license is a pretty mundane task. Oh, the first one is usually special. If you are a teen, eager to get through a rite of passage, but usually after a move is one of the first tasks is to get a driver’s license as it is usually necessary to have a current i.d. to sign up for utilities or cable, etc. For several different reasons I have had to take tests 10 different times in 7 states. I speak from experience.

      My first test was shortly after my 16th birthday. I was agog at the prospect of driving the family car once in a while. I had practiced behind the wheel and studied for the written test. The Missouri driving test was supervised by a State Trooper; a tall scary man wearing a Smoky the Bear hat. After surprising him that I could easily parallel park, he said “Let’s go see what is happening with the flood.” There had been a lot of rain that week and the creeks were coming up. Off we went to the highway bridge where we could observe the muddy water overtopping the creek banks. I passed the test.

       It was several years before I had to take another test. This time it was in Iowa City where my new husband and I were attending the University of Iowa. It went pretty smoothly although I recall that as a new driver of a stick shift car, the hills were a challenge.

      Back to Missouri so my husband could take a job with a State Health Department regional office. New baby in tow, we set off for a new life. There was some drama when our much driven Falcon started sputtering on our way to our new home. We limped into town and promptly went shopping for a new car as responsible parents had to have responsible transportation. We decided we could afford a new car now that we would have an income to make the payments. A sporty new blue Mustang was our choice, but to our chagrin we found we had no credit rating. We had taken great pride that we had both got our college degrees without debt. We found out that it wasn’t an asset in the real world. “Go charge the baby a pair of shoes at Sears.” was the advice given by the salesman. “Get a credit history.” He sold us the car anyway.

      Next was Minnesota. My husband had a new job with the U.S. Public Health Service and was sent to liaison with the state Health Department to implement their growing immunization program. Polio vaccine was newly available. Jerry got his license handily. When it was my turn, I drove to the testing site as I had to take both a written and a driving test on a special short course that required quicker reaction times than ordinary streets. I checked in with the clerk, who said

      “Do you have a current driver’s license?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“May I see it?”
“Of course.”


       I handed over my Missouri license. She took a pair of scissors and cut it up. Almost immediately after I began the driving test, I turned left into the far lane. “Pull over, the tester barked. You just flunked the test. It is Minnesota law to turn into the nearest lane. You will have to come back tomorrow and try again.”

      Back to the clerk. “What am I to do? I need to get home.”
“I don’t know” she said callously “You don’t have a license.”

      I called my husband and he and his brand new boss had to come rescue me. I lived in Minnesota for 12 years. An average sentence, I thought.

       Back to my home town where I could attend the nearby University and earn a PhD. Only the written test was required. No big deal.

      My next move was to Illinois (Again, only a written test. Easy peasy.) I got one speeding ticket while living there, but learned that if you go to court and ask for court supervision, after three months the charge is expunged. I went for that.

       I took a job in Kansas. My Illinois automobile license expired one day before the move and I decided to not renew it for one day; what were the chances of getting caught? Of course, I got stopped by a policeman whose eagle eyes spotted that my license was out of date. I pled my case that I was moving to Kansas as we spoke and after looking over my packed car, he observed “I believe you because you have plants in the back seat.” Replacing my license in my wallet, I gratefully drove away to another beginning.

       When I arrived at the Kansas DMV I discovered that my Illinois driver’s license was missing. “No problem, “said the clerk. If you will pay for the call, we will contact Illinois and verify that you have a valid license.” It worked.

      After taking the written test, I went to pay for my new license. The woman ahead of me in line stepped up to the clerk. “How long have you lived in Kansas? "
“About a year.”
Without missing a beat, the clerk said “In Kansas there is a substantial financial penalty if you apply for a license after 6 months. Now, how long have you lived in Kansas?”
‘Three months.” The woman promptly replied.
“Fine” said the clerk said. Just pay the fee.”

      About six months later, I found my Illinois license hiding in a wallet slot I seldom used. Kansas will always be my favorite state for welcoming a newcomer.

       I then got a job with the Campbell Soup Company in New Jersey. It was relatively easy to pass the written test. A car is a luxury in the east. Public transportation is available – scheduled frequently and convenient to use. Parking a car is a nuisance in a major city and my second husband hadn’t had a car or a driver’s license in years. After arriving at the DMV we were told that as our new Thunderbird had a console, we would have to come back with a car designed to make it possible for the Officer to reach the brake. We rented a car and he and I got our licenses.

      We moved to Pennsylvania and encountered a new problem. Computers were relatively new in 1989, and the test was computerized. I am one of those people who takes tests by answering the easy questions first and then go back for the puzzlers. Not possible with the new system. I flunked the test. I think it was because I didn’t know the difference between twilight and sundown when it came to turning on my lights. Of course, I couldn’t take it again that day. I had to come back the next.

      Upon my husband’s retirement I moved Missouri for the third time. I had it down pat .Studied the manual and took a written test. No problem.

      Then fate determined that we move again to Minnesota as we lost our home in a flash flood and had no place to live. If you recall, Minnesota was a difficult experience the first time. It hadn’t changed. Still difficult, but different circumstances. Because we had lost our vital papers in the flood we found that we had to present birth certificates, marriage licenses and my divorce papers to prove my name. This took three months to acquire for both of us as incorrect prices cited and staff cuts in various states slowed the processes. Meanwhile we had to return to the DMV every 30 days to keep our applications “alive”.

      What have I learned from all this? Most states do not recognize the importance of using the License Bureau as a marvelous opportunity in public relations. This early introduction into a new home can be a pleasant one or a big pain. It can be one more onerous task required by a move, or it could be a warm welcome with information about the new state and community and would make the transition much easier.

      It is my understanding that I will not need a license when I cross over to the other side, so I don’t have to worry about that problem anymore. It wouldn’t be a problem if it were required. In my next move, I will be too old to drive.

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Introspective

By Thomas F. O'Neill 

 

      I’m going to tell you a story about an extraordinary human being - who I met in September of 1978. I truly admired this person because he was an amazing person.

      His name was Muhammad Ali and in September of 1978, he was the first heavy weight boxer to regain the world championship title for the third time.

      Ali’s training camp was in Deer Lake, Pennsylvania, approximately 12 miles from my home in Shenandoah.

      In February 1978, Ali went up against Leon Spinks it was Spinks 7th professional fight and he captured the world heavy weight title from Ali. Ali began training hard for the rematch in Deer Lake.

      My hometown’s mortician was a boxing manager and he was managing a young boxer that trained at Ali’s camp. The mortician was friends with a man who was a friend of my father. One day they took me to see Muhammad Ali.

      When I walked in to one of the cabins at the training camp there was a large boxing ring there. Ali was bigger than life inside that ring and he joked to reporters who were snapping photos of him. He joked about how ugly Leon Spinks was and pulverizing him in the ring might improve his looks. He was funny, and he was extremely aware of how people like me saw him as a boxing legend.

      One day I took the public transportation bus from Shenandoah to Deer Lake and I ran from the bus-stop up to his camp. I saw Ali running along a path in the woods. I ran up to him, but I was unaware of the champ’s security detail. One of Ali’s security guys tackled me to the ground.

      All I heard was, “Hey, Hey, what are you, a cop, he’s just a kid!!!” those angry words came from Ali himself. He then pulled me up by my arm and said, “look go over to that cabin I’ll be over there later.” This became a regular thing for me, not getting tackled, but going to Ali’s camp.

      Ali could never remember my name he just called me “Kid.” I started hitting the punching bags and jumping rope there. I got to know the members of his entourage. One of the boxers there was from Shenandoah and I would get a ride home from him.

      One day Ali yelled over to me, “hey, Kid, are there any good movies playing.” I told him the Capital theater in my hometown was playing Superman. After Ali’s workout four cars pulled up in front of the cabin. One of Ali’s entourage people asked me to get in one of the cars.

      When we arrived at the theater a man in the ticket booth said to the Champ, “hey did anyone ever tell you how much you look like Ali?” My only response from that statement was a sarcastic “Duuuaa.”

      Muhammad Ali bought every seat in the house and when the ticket booth guy asked “Why?” Ali said, “I want to watch the movie.”

      When we sat down before the start of the film. The champ looked at me and asked, “hey kid have you ever noticed how all the superheroes are white?”

      “I never thought about that” I said.

      He then asked, “have you ever thought about how all the angels are white?” he then paused for a second, “how come there aren’t any black angels?”

      My reply was, “I think angels are spiritual … kind of color neutral.”

      Ali then asked, “have you ever thought about how your god is white? All the twelve apostles were white.”

      “I never thought about that either,” I said, “was Muhammad black?” I asked.

      “Of course, he was black and so was Jesus” he said.

      “I wouldn’t know, I never met them,” I said, “Is your god black?”

      “God is god kid, only people are black and white” he said.

      “Well,” I said, “you’re a superhero for many people and you're black.”

      “Well, Kid,” he said, “I won a gold medal in the 1960 Olympic games, and I couldn’t get a hamburger in a diner, because I’m black.”

      “Maybe they heard about you stealing those bikes” I said.

      “What are talking about?” the champ asked.

      “Howard Cosell said, you started your career stealing bikes,” I went on to say, “he also said you’re not the man you were ten years ago.”

      “Hey, Kid, every time Howard opens his mouth he should get arrested for air pollution.” Ali went on to say, “besides, I talked to Howard’s wife,” Ali paused for a second because the movie started, “and she told me Howard’s not the man he was two years ago.”

      He then put his index finger up to his lips to let me know the movie started.

      When the movie ended the guy in the ticket booth looked at me and asked, “What does he do?” pointing to Ali, my only response was a sarcastic “duaaaa” I then said, “he will soon be the only heavy weight boxer to regain the world title three times.”

      The ticket booth guy’s eye widened, “you mean he’s the guy?” he said in a surprised tone of voice.

      Well, Ali did go on to regain his title for the third time but for me that was just a foot note to his greatness. His abilities in the ring captured the imagination of children and adults all over the world. He was truly a champion with a bombastic way of expressing himself. He wasn’t just a great athlete in many ways he was also a great entertainer. But most of all, his capacity for kindness transcended, race, religion, and one’s economic standing in the world.

      What he taught me 40 years ago is how to reach out and treat others the way you would want to be treated. You can also define the true character of Muhammad Ali by how well he reached-out to those of the least influence.

      Ali in 1978, reached out to the grandson of a coal miner. He revealed to me, that the true measure of Ali’s worth was revealed by what he gave to others and his true legacy will not consist in his athletic abilities alone.

      Ali liked to tell people, “I’m the greatest,” his greatness, however, will not be defined by the ring. His true greatness consisted in his capacity for kindness and the kindness that he bestowed on me will truly be his greatest legacy in my heart and soul.

Always with love,
Thomas F O’Neill

Phone: (800) 272-6464

WeChat - Thomas_F_ONeill

Skype: thomas_f_oneill

Email: introspective7@hotmail.com

http://thomasfoneill.blogspot.com

Facebook: https:/www.facebook.com/thomasf.oneill.3

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On Trek

By Judith Kroll

Share your Lovelight

I was having a colorful dream,
my body tingling,
my light shining a steady stream.
Each beautiful furry pet I've known,
stole my heart. They came home.
                               Reunion time .   I could feel their kisses and their hugs,
unconditional love steamed the dream.
Each personality was still intact,
my laughter rippled thruout
time and space.
What a race.

Then a horse I hadn't known,
came into my sight.
The energy he sent my way,
helped me remember who he is.
Traveling the road from my home,
there was this lonely horse all alone.

He walked in mud and looked underfed
I cried many a tear when I passed his shed.
He came to me and I heard him say
“ I felt your love everyday.
You encouraged me and kept me strong,
I come to you to let you know,

every love light sent our way,
was remembered, felt and cherished.
Always know love never stops,
travels with the wind, ripples on the sea,
shines thru the sun, and rains gently on our souls.
It works for people too. Share your Lovelight.”

As the night passed my fur babies left,
we were all filled with love.
The horse whinnied one last time,
and assured me once again,
Love never fails.
We are all blessed. ©10/26/18 Judith Kroll

Someone posted the pic, I wrote this story..
      She sings her love

      The little birdie wrapped her claws around the frozen twig.

      The air was crisp, and the sky was blue.

      She took a breath and started to sing. Her trill formed puffs of mist, thus all could SEE her song.

      She sang and sang all the tunes she knew, encouraging us to become aware.

      She sings her love.

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Irish Eyes

By Mattie Lennon 

 

Scalpels, Skulls And Rigor Mortis

 

“The dead don’t hide the truth and they never lie. Through me they can speak." - Dr Richard Shepherd.

      London born Dr Richard Shepherd is the forensic pathologist in the UK, who investigates and solves mysteries of unexplained or sudden death. He is a visiting professor at City University London, Honorary Consultant at The Royal Liverpool Hospital and a registered UK Home Office Forensic Pathologist.

       He has been involved in the investigation of many high profile deaths He advised on the management of UK fatalities following 9/11, and was the forensic pathologist expert for the Bloody Sunday Inquiry and the death of Diana, Princess of Wales. He is a member of the Ministerial Independent Advisory Panel on Deaths in Custody and also of the Restraint Accreditation Board, and has been a member of the Criminal Injuries Compensation Appeals Panel.

      He appears on Channel Five's Autopsy, where he investigates the mystery and intrigue behind the deaths of high profile celebrities such as Michael Jackson and Michael Hutchence.

      His first book Unnatural Causes was published, by Penguin, in September. In it he brings the reader on a, step by step, journey through his career. His literary prowess is evident from page 1, where he mentions the North Downs, “ . . .bearing an odd similarity to the rise and fall of the human body.” In almost every one of the 392 pages I asked myself why this wordsmith waited until he was sixty five to write his first book.

      He first became interested in “bodies” at age thirteen when a book was smuggled into his school. Yes. I know what you’re thinking! But. . . No. The book was a textbook on forensic medicine and the young Richard was immediately hooked.

      In the course of his career his work has put killers behind bars and ensured that the innocent walked free. His evidence has overturned what appeared to be water-tight cases. He is to all intents and purposes, a detective whose question is, “How did this person die?”

       Dr Shepherd has faced serial killers, natural disaster, 'perfect murders' and freak accidents, all in the pursuit of the truth. And while he's been involved in some of the most high-profile cases of recent times, it's often the less well-known encounters that prove the most perplexing, intriguing and even bizarre.

      Like Rumpole of the Bailey, I’m sure, he at times annoyed his spouse at home in the kitchen while carrying out experiments on joints of meat. "I didn't stab every Sunday roast with a variety of knives, but the children definitely did see me do it sometimes," he once said.

       But a working life in death, dealing with some of humanity's darkest corners is sure to take its toll. Shepherd doesn't flinch from counting the cost to him and his family. Exposure to stomach-churning violence meant that he was eventually diagnosed with PTSD. He felt that he wouldn’t ever be able to practice at the chosen profession, which he loved, again. But, “Gradually the world of colour and beauty began to reform itself around me.” He once again was able to wield the scalpel over his “patients” who neither complain or tell lies. He sums up his return to practice in the final six words of this book, “I did care. I still do.”

      Laurence J. Peter said, "Before publisher’s blurbs were invented, authors had to make their reputations by writing.” Perhaps he was right.

      The blurb on this book states, "Unnatural Causes is an unputdownable record of an extraordinary life, a unique insight into a remarkable profession, and above all a powerful and reassuring testament to lives cut short.” This is an understatement, in the words of a more able interviewer than I , "Dr Shepherd , ” . . . 'Puts the reader at his elbow as he wields the scalpel'."

* * * * *

Jimmy Norton was at a wake in Ballyknockan where the daughter of the house was a member of the caring profession who insisted in giving a detailed, chronological account of her father’s last hours. When she got to, “ . . And about four o’ Clock Rigor Mortis set in”, Jimmy asked, “Is that what kilt him.”

* * * * *

A reporter from East coast radio was interviewing an 80 year old west Wicklow woman who had just got married for the fourth time. The interviewer asked her numerous questions about her life and about what it was like to be married again at 80 and then about her new husband’s occupation. “He’s a funeral undertaker”, she said.
The newsman became very interested and asked her about her first three husbands and what they did for a living. She paused, smiled and told him that she had married a banker in her twenties, a circus ringmaster in her forties and a preacher in her sixties.
The reporter was astonished and asked her why she had married four men with such diverse careers. He got his answer;
“ I married one for money, two for show, three to get ready and four to go.”

* * * * *

A Warsaw man who was married to a Wicklow woman felt that a meeting with the local undertaker was imminent. He believed that his wife had poisoned him when he found, on her dressing-table, a small empty bottle bearing the label, POLISH REMOVER.

* * * * *

AN UNUSUAL MATCH.
       Lisdoonvarna, County Clare is famous for its annual Matchmaking Festival. It is the location where, in many people’s lives, love-stories began. Now Dublin author and poet Michael Lacey, currently living in Lisdoonvarna, has taken the matchmaking to a new level. In his latest publication "The Proud Chamber Pot" he matches up a chamber pot named Helaine with a jam pot called Sam. I won’t spoil it for you with any more details because you see this is actually a children’s story. It is beautifully illustrated by Italian artist Lucia Tripepi.

      Oh yes . . .they all lived happily ever after.

Details at:www.limerickwriterscentre.com

* * * * *

Left: Mattie Lennon; Right: Michael D. Higgins

      I am delighted to report that Michael D. Higgins will be our president for another seven years.

      See you in December.

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