If you want to push something down, you have to pull it up.

So, on a lighter note compared to my last post, I thought I would throw out some more cast iron love. :)  I know I'm not all fancy like the Pioneer Woman with immaculate photos, so I'll work on that eventually. For now, I'll have to paint you a word picture with one photo I took with my iPhone because I wanted to instagram it. Yes. I just said that.  

When I am reasoning a skillet, I have a few go to recipes that I like to use. Number one is anything with bacon, of course. There is nothing like bacon grease for seasoning cast iron. If you are vegan or vegetarian, there is still hope. Try broiling root veggies in coconut oil. It's delicious. I'll put up that recipe soon, but for all the carnivores out there... or fishavores (Piscivore if we want to get technical) salmon is a great to cook in cast iron. It's nice and oily, and the cast iron is great for transitioning from the stove top to finishing the salmon under the broiler to crisp up the skin. Not to mention, Salmon is my last name (although we pronounce it saL-mon... not because we are rednecks, but because we weren't named after the fish.) So, yeah, perfect recipe to open with. :)

When I first thought about the skin on a fish i was like... wow. That's gross. But watching the food network makes you change your mind because you realize that is what real chefs do. They cook it to perfection and then they eat it. So, if you are aspiring to throw down with Bobby Flay at any point in your life, I suggest you love the skin. 

I have found that frozen salmon doesn't cook as well and doesn't have the skin on. If you are working on seasoning your skillet, you definitely want to go with fresh. 

• The fist thing is go ahead and turn your oven to broil. That way it's warmed and ready to finish your salmon without having to heat up while your salmon sits in it's oil. Plus, cast iron retains heat so it is still going to be in cook mode when you put it under the broiler, and you don't want to end up overcooking your fish. 

• Next, put your skillet on the eye on medium heat. I like to season my salmon with salt and pepper, paprika,and I add some coconut oil to the skillet while it is warming. Just a little... and for the taste. The salmon is oily enough on it's own, but if you want to add a little butter for flavor, that's fine. I love it with coconut oil, and a small dab of butter or coconut oil can help you gage when your skillet is ready. When the oil/butter melts, looks clear, and is just beginning to sizzle a little lay your salmon in the pan. 

• Start with the skin side down, and cook for three to four minutes. Then flip it over. With skin side up, depending on how thick your cut is, you are going to want to cook for 3-5 minutes. Watch the middle of the thickest part. You're looking for it to change color and get kind of shiny. It' will still be slightly darker than the flesh around it. 

• Then grab your pot holder and stick it in the oven. You want to leave it there till the skin puckers just a little and looks crispy. Pull it from the oven and admire your amazing skill. Lift and serve. 

And eat.  

The brilliant part is the clean up. I like to let my skillet cool down slowly, and then I wipe out all of the oil with a paper towel. You can rinse under tepid water and dry thoroughly with a paper towel if you want, but remember WE WANT THIS OIL. When you are drying it off, it should still seem a oily. Don't do any scrubbing or it's just going to pull off some of your seasoning. After you've dried it put it back on the eye and turn crank the heat up to high. Let the skillet heat up with the eye and as soon as it gets hot, turn it off, remove from the eye, and let it cool down slowly. You just killed a ton of germs and barely had to wash a dish. You're welcome. 

We didn’t say Grace, we said on your marks, get set go.

There's this little place I go inside of me when I write. I can feel myself snuggle in there when I sit down at my computer. It's not completely dark, but it's definitely dimly lit. I'm not always there when I write things for this blog, and I'm not even always there for every single sentence in a post sometimes. This has been a weird close of an old year and opening of the new one for me, and I'm nestled in to that little spot on my brain's couch ready to pour out a little bit of myself and send it out to fly around on the interewebz where anyone and everyone can stumble upon it. Isn't that sad that's me being brave? I guess I'm not much of a risk taker any more.

The past few weeks  have been a little depressing because I have been an invalid. Well, I feel that way anyway. I have barely been out of the bed. I've had some sort of crud that almost burst my ear drums, Chewy bit me pretty badly and I could barely walk for a few days,  mother nature came to visit, and now I have strep throat. So, I've felt pretty useless. It's one thing to do nothing all the time because I want to. It's another because that's all I CAN do. Compared to what I was, I am feeling a lot better now, although the puss pocket on the back of my throat (enjoy that visual) is dragging me down.

In spite of the bout of virus and bacteria that have ravaged my poor body, nothing has knocked the wind out of my sails faster than getting bit by a short, stocky, angry Pekingese. Talk about childhood issues rising to the surface in a tempest of blood, teeth, screams, and growls. I felt so defeated.... worthless.... heartbroken. It is so hard to give and give and give and love unconditionally and even have a dog seemingly throw it back in your face... or bite it till it is bruised, swollen, and bloody. I swung my foot off the bed, and I think his reflexes from a past life kicked in, and he may have thought he was going to get kicked. To be honest, I'm not sure exactly what happened because I didn't see it happening. I just felt it. I felt it through every ounce of me. Through all that I felt my dad not loving me, all my faults, loss of people I love... weird, right? All that from a dog bite.

I don't write about my belief system often. I don't flood my Facebook or any one else's with Christian stuff, but even so I've been defending my faith a lot lately it seems. Apparently it's not really the cool thing to do to be a Christian any more. It's what dumb people believe in, and any one with any sense- common or otherwise- would do better to believe in nothing. It's fine to be spiritual, but just don't put a label on it. It's fine to believe in the paranormal, but just don't attribute it to anything biblical. If God was really a good, loving God, why would he ask us to worship him? Everyone has a right to their own feelings and to figure out the world that makes sense to them, but God makes sense to me.

 For me, Chewy chewing my foot off made me think about all this. I love him so much. It hurts when he hurts me because I want good things for him. I want to pet him, cuddle him, and rub his little belly like I do my other dogs... without him going ballistic and wanting to kill me.  I found him wandering, meandering alone. He was filthy. He stank. He was sick and needed medical attention. He was hungry, thirsty, and whatever life he had before has left him scared, scarred, and damaged. I picked him up. My family, friends, and I have cleaned him, shaved his matted fur, taken him to the vet, given him medicine, petted him, fed him, fell in love with him, and dealt with his tantrums, his bites, and growls. We have reveled in his cuddles, his licks, and his training.... and through all the pain, (and obviously it has been actually physically painful) we have loved him. That is really a good example of unconditional love... and maybe some stupidity on our part for dealing with all this (haha)... but we love him. He makes me angry. He makes me cry. He makes me laugh, smile, and even enjoy the fact that he wakes me up in the middle of the night because he's sneezed in my face. Because at least he feels safe and wants to be close to me. If we were to give him up, it would be certain death for him. No shelter would place a dog that without a doubt would bite or be aggressive like he can be.

God found me. He deals with my black heart and stinky mouth. I disappoint him so much every single day, I'm sure. I know I probably hurt him. I do things I'm not proud of, that I regret, and that I fail at a thousand times over. I can't even meet the expectations I place on myself... much less live up to any one else's.  My past has me scared and scarred, and sometimes it probably feels like I sneeze in his face.... but he loves me so much, I think he probably likes it. I see him everywhere I look... from the beginning of time and the expansion of the universe...the atoms that build us.... to the blue in the eyes of my niece and nephew and the wonderful heart of my husband. He is everywhere I look. I can't help it if you can't see it. I don't know how to paint the picture any clearer, and I don't really feel like arguing about it anymore because we aren't going to change each other's minds. The only thing I can say to you is live...and let me. That's about all we can do here anyway.

You could be reading this right now, rolling your eyes thinking I'm crazy. In fact you may have seen me treat someone horribly. Maybe I treated you badly. I hope I didn't, and if I did, I'm sure an open, honest conversation would clear things up. But whatever I have done, it's been all me so try not to blame god for me being a jerk.