It’s been years since I made some; and none since I moved to Australia. So I made some. The meat mixture makes a good meatball too, but will need some breadcrumbs as binder. Consider the recipe below as a basic starter, and feel free to add other vegetables and seasonings and ingredients for your own lumpia.
I also put in how I wrap them, in case anyone needs a step by step. I hope it helps ^_^
The most common and popular adobo recipe seen around tends to revolve around pork belly or leg chunks, or pork AND chicken. Traditionally, fatty chicken and fatty pork = adobo especially for travelling, because Filipino style adobo was a cooking method that resulted in a dish not too dissimilar to English potted hare – with the broth thickening to jelly and the fat sealing the top of the jar. In a country where the heat would result in spoiled food while travelling, adobo was king, and still is one of the ‘traditional’ dishes to take with you to the beach picnic.
The fisking was short, and well, pretty much was this:
See, to these escapees from the mental asylum, being male and heterosexual is apparently the worst! THING. EVAR. See helpful example below of how sane people view real oppression, and how these willingly mentally crippled nobility wannabes see it.
Anyway, go read Larry’s post. It’s worth every moment of your time, and I will warn you to set aside your beverage of choice, if you’re drinking; or stop eating if you’re having lunch/dinner/snacks.
Anyone with actual working neurons know by now that meaningless, thrown together words like ‘cis-gender-normative facist’ and ‘heteromediocre’ are attempts at virtue signalling – a social justice wanker’s barking to let other SJWankers know “I’m one of you guys, don’t eat me alive!” For those of us who get those meaningless, baseless accusations and insults thrown our way, it’s a signal that we’re disliked by the social scavengers of the human jungle; and that the person being insulted may in fact not be yet another one of the brainless stupid sheeple having delusions of Red Guardhood.
Because the wild SJWanker seal eschews logic, reason, and rationality for whatever s/he/it is currently feeling and ‘finds offensive’ just right then, those same things they’ve discarded as inconvenient (including reality) are wonderful weapons with which to beat their farcical attempts at argumentative guilt tripping with. Laughter, mockery and ridicule, as well as not taking them seriously, are others, and these are sometimes more effective than trying to reason with someone who thinks you should be erased off the planet, sent to concentration camps for being heterosexual/male/white/does not agree with the SJWanker. Why waste the time? Life is a finite resource for you.
On that note, I howled with laughter at the display of brainless arrogance at the demand that Larry do things her way to meet her approval with the mildly vague implication that if ‘she found his books’ more interesting, then there’d be the slightest chance she might, maybe, buy a book of his. This is stupid, as well as ridiculously self-centered thinking – “I don’t like this book, therefore, nobody should, and it should change to what I like” as opposed to reading authors’ works you enjoy.
Well, that’s what the rest of the world does, instead of wasting time and money on things they don’t like.
Anyway, Larry, having dealt with these weasel-word using morons before, went straight to mocking this one. I mean, come on, if a shelf full of action-packed fiction books sends this SJWanker to fits of narcolepsy, how do you think they’d react if dropped into say, the nearest ISIS base camp (well, assuming Russia hasn’t wiped them out yet) – they’ll fall asleep to the lullaby of AK-47s, while the jihadists rip off her clothes as a precursor to their SOP of raping women who are 1) alone 2) not wearing a niqab 3)not in the presence of a blood-related or approved guardian male?
Seriously, they couldn’t handle fiction; there’s just no way they’re gonna cope with reality, and reality doesn’t give a finger snap about their fragile melty feels.
Anyway, the sloshed together and hurked-up terminology mentioned in the post (related to some years ago) amused me enough to play around on Photoshop with; and I thought Larry’s snarky translation from English to SJWanker would be hilarious on a coffee mug. The resulting graphics below, inspired by the post’s spirit of laughter, are free to take and be used for both personal and commercial purposes.
Remember: smiles and laughter are better than frowns and shrill sloganistic shrieking! More fun and better for your overall health, both mentally and physically!
Seriously though; Larry? Mediocre? I’d love me some of that so called ‘mediocrity’ he’s got. He got himself (part of?) a mountain with the profits made from what he does; and there’s some gorgeous hectarage down under I’ve love to be able to earn up the AUD for through some lovely, lovely meritocracy.
I don’t really have a creative title for the post. My apologies.
Early this week I decided to marinade some simply massive chicken marylands (thigh and drumstick cut) in the juice of the limes our rental house comes with. The limes that tiny, scrawny, greatly suffering tree bears are huge – they’re the size of baseballs, for one – and they’re very juicy. The minimum time I tend to marinade things is overnight; but for these I decided to ignore them until Friday, so that must’ve been around 3 days sitting in the fridge, marinating. I also stabbed the meatier sections of the cuts to let the meat REALLY soak in.
I had an extra piece though and I decided I’ll boil it for broth. I left it on the stovetop on low for a while, seasoned with salt, pepper and mixed herbs, then at the end of the day turned it off, let it cool and put the whole pot in the fridge, along with the marinating pieces.
The lime halves, which I originally was going to chuck out, I decided to put into plastic containers and tucked them into the corner of the more commonly used toilets. They’ve been working wonderfully as air fresheners.
Friday rolls around and I take out those marinating chicken marylands and season them – not too fancy, just with some seasoned salt. I roast those lime-marinated chickens and oh my goodness. The house smelled amazing. The drippings ended up on our rice and the chicken was utterly tender and flavorful. Me being me, I added a bit more salt to my share, but from the ‘mmm’ and ‘hyuuummm’ sounds I was getting, I’d say everyone else was quite happy with the result.
I still had the chicken in the pot though and I took it out a little while ago to remove the fat. There must’ve been a half centimetre worth of fat sitting on top of the jellied broth. I skimmed it out and put the chicken back on the stove to render some more.
I looked at it and found myself thinking, “Surely, back in the day this wasn’t thrown out,” and looked up the uses for chicken fat, and learned something new.
In Jewish cooking, it’s called schmaltz. And you can use it in place of butter, making your toast more savory than well, ‘breakfasty’ I guess. This page has plenty of ideas, including dipping oil infusions.
I think I can come up with ideas and ways to use this later on in my stories, as small side details.
As for the fat, I saved it in a jar and stuck it in the very back of my fridge. It’ll be useful for basting a chicken being reheated in the oven, or used as a pat when roasting vegetables, for a bit of extra flavour.