Nescafe arranges a meeting with the Pope at the VaticanAfter receiving the Papal blessing, the Nescafe official whispers ‘Your Eminence, we have an offer for you.Nescafe is prepared to donate $100 million to the church if you change the Lord’s Prayer from ‘give us this day our daily bread’ to ‘give us this day Our daily coffee.’The Pope responds, ‘That is impossible. The prayer is the word of the Lord. It must not be changed.”Well,’ said the Nescafe man, ‘we anticipated your reluctance. For this Reason we will increase our offer to $300 million.”My son, it is impossible, for the prayer is the word of the Lord and it Must not be changed.’The Nescafe guy says, ‘Your Holiness, we at Nescafe respect your adherence To the faith, but we do have one final offer….We will donate $500 million – that’s half a billion dollars – to the great Catholic Church if you would only change the Lord’s Prayer from ‘give us This day our daily bread’ to ‘give us this day our daily coffee.”Please consider it.’And he leaves.The next day the Pope convenes the College of Cardinals.’There is some good news,’ he announces, ‘and some bad news.’The good news is that the Church will come into $500 million.”And the bad news your Holiness?’ asks a Cardinal.’We’re losing the Wonder Bread account.’
- ▢ 3/4 cup butter room temperature
- ▢ 1 1/4 cups sugar
- ▢ 3 large eggs
- ▢ 20 ounces canned crushed pineapple drained well
- ▢ 2 teaspoons lemon juice
- ▢ 4 cups French bread cubes
- Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray a 2 quart baking dish with non-stick spray.
- Beat together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.
- Beat in the eggs one at a time.
- Stir in the pineapple and lemon juice to combine.
- Fold in the bread cubes.
- Spread into prepared baking dish and bake for 45-50 minutes or until the top is golden brown.
• 1 small watermelon (3 pounds), rind removed, cut into 1-inch chunks, and chilled • 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil • 2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lime juice or lemon juice • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt • Small pinch of freshly ground black pepper • 1/4 cup chopped mint leaves • 4 ounces crumbled feta cheese
In a small mixing bowl, combine oil, lemon or lime juice, salt, and pepper. Step 2
Pour the dressing over the chilled watermelon along with the mint. Toss very gently and sprinkle with feta.
• 2 large limes, divided • 1/2 small red onion, thinly sliced • 1 1/4 teaspoons granulated sugar, divided • 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, divided, plus more to taste • 1 clove garlic, finely chopped • 1/4 cup packed finely chopped fresh cilantro leaves, plus whole leaves and tender stems for serving • 1/4 cup olive oil • 1 medium head butter lettuce (about 1 pound), such as Boston or Bibb, chopped • 2 Persian cucumbers, or 1 medium English cucumber, thinly sliced • 6 ounces multi-colored cherry tomatoes (about 1 cup), halved • 2 large ripe peaches, pitted and sliced • 4 ounces feta cheese, crumbled • 1/4 cup roasted, salted pumpkin seeds (pepitas) • Freshly ground black pepper
Grate the zest of 1 large lime finely. In a small bowl, add 1 teaspoon of the zest and reserve the rest of the zest for the salad topping. Juice the lime and add 1 tablespoon to the bowl. Step 2
Add 1/4 teaspoon of the sugar and 1/4 teaspoon of the salt. Add half of the red onion slices and toss to coat. Set aside for at least 15 minutes. Step 3
Add the following to another small bowl: juice from the remaining 1 1/2 limes, garlic, 1/4 cup cilantro, 1/4 cup olive oil, 1 teaspoon sugar, 1/2 teaspoon salt. Whisk to combine. Step 4
In a large salad bowl, add lettuce, cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, peaches, and feta cheese. Step 5
Garnish the salad with pumpkin seeds, onion (discard the remaining liquid), lime zest, and additional cilantro. Drizzle the dressing over the salad and add salt and pepper to taste.
It was late in the evening. I had just settled down in my rocking chair and put my feet up on the footstool. The cup of hot tea was nice and warm in my hands. In just a few minutes I would go upstairs to bed like the rest of my family, but just for the moment I was going to sit and savor the peace. The window was open near my rocking chair. I could hear crickets chirping and little tree frogs singing down by the creek. A whippoorwill called from down the hollow, and another one answered. The air was still warm from the summer’s day heat. We sure could use some rain. In the distance I could hear dry leaves crunching like an animal was rustling through them. Probably that armadillo again, I thought. There was a burrow out behind one of the barns, and I enjoyed watching her while she snuffled around in the early mornings. Something was different about this noise, however. It was getting closer to the house, and was beginning to sound like something much bigger than a little armadillo browsing for bugs to eat. Closer and closer it came. I began to wonder if the rumors I had heard were true. Was there really a bear in the neighborhood? I began to feel goosebumps as I sat frozen in suspense. I now could hear footsteps, heavy and slow, moving right outside my window. Crunch, crunch went the dead leaves. Then I saw something glide by just above the window sill. It was curly, and looked like a tail of some sort. Cue the shark attack music. Da-dum…DA-dum…DA-dum, DA-dum, DA-dum! “Lemon, is that you?” I whispered. A startled sort of “Grunt?” was the reply. My heart was still pounding, but I felt an immense relief. It was only my daughter’s blue ribbon Yorkshire sow. I slipped on a pair of shoes and stepped out the front door. “Lemon, what are you doing out of your pen?” I asked. Lemon, who had been nosing through my flower bed, turned around with all the ponderous grace of the QE2 doing an about-face. She grunted again in pleasure. She was happy to see me, as always. The white sow walked beside me through the dark like an obedient puppy. She was a very affectionate animal for a pet that weighed close to six hundred pounds. Her abdomen was swelled with all the piglets she carried. I patted her rounded side as we walked. Lemon went back into her pen with no trouble. I scratched her favorite spot behind one ear before I left and walked back to the house. I had just settled down in my chair again and taken a sip of tea, when I heard leaves crunching. Oh, no, not again! Suddenly, two huge ears and a pink snout appeared above window sill. I sighed, “Yes, Lemon, I’m coming.” This time I went upstairs and called for reinforcements. Obviously, Lemon was restless tonight and needed to be put up safely. We couldn’t take the chance of anything happening to her or her babies. With a sleepy husband in tow, I carefully picked a path through the darkness. This time, however, Lemon led the way. She marched forward like a pig on a mission, passing by her pen and leading us to the barn. She waited patiently while we opened the door, then walked into an open stall. This was the place she had delivered her last litter of pigs, and it now stood clean and ready for Lemon’s due date next week. The sow took a long drink of water, then eased herself down and rolled over onto her side. She was now the picture of contentment. My husband studied the breeding records. “Well, she’s not due for a few more days, but if this is where she wants to be tonight, we’ll let her stay in here.” Lemon’s response was a huge sigh. The next morning, we were greeted by the sight of eight, brand-new baby pigs snuggled next to Lemon, each one a miniature replica of their now much slimmer mother. “Oh, look at all the Lemon Drops!” my daughter exclaimed as she leaned down to pat one little white pig. It blinked tiny blue eyes as it nuzzled her fingers. Outside I heard a soft pattering of rain begin, and a rumble of thunder. Our dry spell was over. The much needed rain had arrived. Lemon Drops and raindrops, what a wonderful way to start the day!