Monday, May 26

Philly Cheesesteaks? No thanks.

Blasphemy!
How can a girl from Philadelphia say she doesn't like Philly cheesesteaks?
Simple. They're greasy, soggy and don't even contain real cheese. Cheese whiz? Blechh.

So, don't ask me "Pat's or Geno's?" Because I will say NEITHER. (Although in deference to my husband, Tony Luke's is supposed to be better than both of them.)

In my house growing up, my dad (who doesn't cook anything but this) always made the steak sandwiches, which we ate on a Saturday (only) night maybe once or twice a month.



Here's how he (and I) makes a cheesesteak:

Get very thinly-sliced rib-eye steak (or Steak Ums if you don't have a butcher nearby, but trust me, the real steak is wayyy better). You will need about 4 or 5 slices per person.

Warm vegetable oil in frying pan- just enough to put a thin coating on the pan- at medium heat.

Add steak.

Break steak up slightly with spatula and cook until brown on both sides.
(If you like fried onions, which I do not, now is the time to add strips of onions to the oil.)

Place steak rolls in the oven for about 5 minutes on 300. The outside should be crispy but not to the point where it all falls apart.

CRUCIAL STEP!!***Add two pinches of oregano while steak is browning- mix well.

If you like cheese, add it now. Lay it on top of the steak and let it melt slightly. (I prefer sliced provolone but American can be used.)

Scoop it out and place it on a plate covered in several paper towels so some of the grease is absorbed.

Add it to the warm roll.

Put teeth into sandwich.

Sunday, May 25

No Song for Me :(

Most of my female friends and relatives have songs with their names as titles. But not me. What made me think of this random piece of trivia? Because I'm sitting here listening to Frankie Valli songs (he is my all-time favorite singer) and I just heard Sherry and Dawn, which are hands-down my two most favorite songs of his.

So I started thinking... my sister, Valerie, has a song, actually she has TWO. So do these friends and relatives: Sharon, Katie, Stephanie, Lauren, Marlena, Carol, Jessica, and of all names, my daughter, whose name is Italian- has a song in Italian. Me? Nothing.

Girls with my name have never inspired anyone to write about them. Not Claudia Schiffer,
not Claudia Cardinale,
not Claudia "Ladybird" Johnson,

and not yours truly.

Hard to believe a face as cute as this doesn't deserve a song, right?

The closest I ever got was when I managed the baseball team in high school and when I would get on the bus the boys would sing, to the tune of "GLORIA," by the Doors-"CLAUDIA- C-L-A-U-D-I-AAAAAA." But that doesn't count.

So, I'm songless. Oh, and my name also means "lame." My parents really picked a winner!