RDJ-- Easy Pork Parmigiana, 03-13-00
Recipe du Jour
Mar 13, 2000 02:47 PST
Volume 3 Number 62
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EASY PORK PARMIGIANA
1 each large egg
1 tablespoon water
2 tablespoons Parmesan cheese -- grated
1/3 cup Italian-seasoned breadcrumbs
8 ounces pork tenderloin -- sliced 1-1/4-inch-thick
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 cup commercial spaghetti sauce
2 ounces Mozzarella cheese -- shredded
Combine egg and water; set aside. Combine Parmesan cheese and breadcrumbs;
set aside. Place each piece of pork between 2 sheets of heavy-duty plastic
wrap; flatten to 1/4-inch thickness using a meat mallet or rolling pin. Dip
pork in egg mixture and dredge in crumb mixture. Cook pork slices in oil in
a large skillet over medium heat just until browned, turning once. Arrange
pork in a lightly greased 8-inch square baking dish; top with spaghetti
sauce. Bake at 350 degrees F. for 25 minutes; top with Mozzarella cheese.
Bake 5 additional minutes. Yield: 4 servings.
Per serving: 203 Calories (kcal); 14g Total Fat; (63% calories from fat);
18g Protein; 1g Carbohydrate; 105mg Cholesterol; 150mg Sodium
Food Exchanges: 0 Grain(Starch); 2 1/2 Lean Meat; 0 Vegetable; 0 Fruit; 2
Fat; 0 Other Carbohydrates
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Rich’s Note: With the Bradford Pear trees billowing almost overnight, it
seemed, the forsythia could wait no longer and shot out their golden
blossoms. Hyacinth and crocus dot the yard in purple and blues and yellow.
The camellias exploded, blooms blasting open. The volleys have been fired.
Spring has declared war on winter; and I’m pleased to report that winter is
losing ground. Leaves are returning to the rose bushes. The pansies know
they will have to give way soon. The cowardly dogwoods are waiting until the
all-clear. Spring is arriving with a thousand buglers and I am glad.
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Simply Tim: ELMER’S LAST FLIGHT
One of my shortest-lived toys was a small plastic airplane that was held
together with rubber bands. Dad brought it home one weekend, and we
assembled it together. When the “GLO-FUEL” engine was fastened to the nose,
it was ready to fly. A grinning pilot had been stenciled onto the cockpit. I
named him “Elmer”.
Dad and I laid out the airplane on an empty parking lot, behind one of the
Honest John missile foundries in Watertown Arsenal, Massachusetts. The
control lines stretched from the plane to a mechanical control handle about
fifty feet away. Dad offered the first pilot’s mission to me. “It’s okay if
you crash, Tim,” he laughed. “The rubber bands are designed so the plane
will just fall apart upon impact.”
“You go first, Dad. I’ll just WATCH!”
The engine cranked up on the third flip of the propeller. A simple
adjustment on the knurled throttle’s knob set the whine of the tiny motor to
a high pitched screech. As burned fuel smells swept over my numbed fingers,
I held Elmer’s airplane flush to the concrete. Dad ran over to the control
handle and motioned me to let go.
“Goodbye, Elmer,” I whispered.
Elmer took off smoothly, circling Dad at a ZILLION miles an hour. Around,
and around, and around sped Elmer and Dad. I could see Elmer’s grinning face
flash by in a blur with each pass. Elmer abruptly pulled back on the control
stick, shooting straight up into the sky. Just as abruptly, he then slammed
the stick forward, zooming straight DOWN towards the rushing pavement. Even
the rubber bands couldn’t save Elmer. He exploded in a burst of microscopic
pieces, followed by a sudden silence. I noticed Dad lying on the parking
lot, the control handle waving in the air. He was laughing and attempted to
sit upright. His head traced a series of circles in a slow oblong wobble.
“Dizzy!” he gasped. “I’m so DIZZY!”
Dad and I scraped up Elmer’s remains and buried him unceremoniously in a
nearby Dumpster. “Next time let’s fill up the fuel tank only half way,” I
Tim’s on vacation. Please hold off your email replies!
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Do you remember?
Blood, Sweat & Tears
What goes up must come down [cowbell enters]
Spinnin' wheel got to go 'round [full drum kit enters]
Talkin' 'bout your troubles it's a cryin' sin
Ride a painted pony let the spinnin' wheel spin
You got no money and you got no home
Spinnin' wheel all alone
Talkin' 'bout your troubles and you never learn
Ride a painted pony let the spinnin' wheel turn
Did you find the directing sign on the
Straight and narrow highway
Would you mind a reflecting sign
Just let it shine within your mind
And show you the colors that are real
Someone is waiting just for you
Spinnin' wheel, spinnin' true
Drop all your troubles by the riverside
[1: Catch a painted pony on the spinning wheel ride]
[2: Ride a painted pony let the spinning wheel fly]
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