Finger-Licking Honey Spareribs
1 cup chili sauce
1/2 cup honey, or more
1/4 cup minced onion
2 Tbs dry red wine, optional
1 Tbs Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp Dijon-style mustard
3 lbs pork spareribs
salt to taste
pepper to taste
1 Combine the first six ingredients in a small saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring constantly.
2 Reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, 5 minutes.
3 Sprinkle spareribs with salt and pepper.
4 Place on a rack over a roasting pan; cover with foil and bake at 375°F 35 to 45 minutes.
5 Uncover and brush generously with sauce.
6 Bake 45 minutes, brushing with sauce every 15 minutes, until spareribs are fully cooked and tender. Cut spareribs into serving portions and serve with remaining sauce.
Servings: 4
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
What is it about birthdays?
What is it about a pending birthday that makes children and young adults rejoice and fairly tremble with excitement and makes the rest of us want to hide in a dark room and contact the plastic surgeon?
Yes, most of us know that we don't "look" our age. We appreciate the "wow - you are aging well!" comments. We even secretly hope that someone will try guessing our age, and come up many years short of the actual number. The fact is most women age well, unless there is some medical reason that prevents us from looking good, even at the advanced age of 35... Granted, there are those of our fairer sex that choose to slide into their grave with a martini in one hand and a cigarette in the other, screaming "whoo hoo - what a ride!" and take that to mean that they must squeeze every ounce of possible excitment from every second of their lives, and they look the part as well. For most of us, though, we just want to arrive at that moment and be able to say that we loved, were loved and will be missed.
Here I sit, faced with another of those "B" days looming ever closer, and another year coming to an unlamented end. And yet, I'm not as apprehensive about this birthday as I was when I turned 30. That year, I think I had to be sedated from the trauma of it. This year, I accept that I have to get older, and that getting older is the price we pay for experiencing life.
A good friend of mine said that there was something wonderful about turning 35: "You know what you do about the world, and you have accomplished so much". It made me think. What do I know? What have I really accomplished? Here is the list that I have come up with:
What I know:
I know that in order to receive love, you have to give it freely.
I know that there is no greater pleasure in life than listening to a child giggle.
I know that it is more important to give than to receive.
I know that what seems insurmountable is usually just a bump you leave behind soon enough.
I know that with age, wisdom and temperance soon follow.
I know that I have loved with all of my being and in return, I have been loved deeply by others.
I know that the quickest way to ensure something gets done, is to say it can't be done...
I know that no marriage is perfect, and that it takes a great deal of work to make it last.
I know that everyone needs to have at least one thing that they are passionate about - and are not afraid to have others know of it.
What I have really accomplished:
I have given birth, twice.
I have raised two beautiful, healthy (generally speaking) boys who genuinely love and respect others.
I have given those boys a solid moral base to stand on when things get rocky elsewhere.
I have been married to the same man for 15 years.
I have learned to accept that which I cannot change.
I have learned that one person cannot be everything to another. It's physically impossible.
I have created a website that I am passionate about, without preaching to anyone about it. It's simply my outlet and my passion.
I have taught young children to believe in themselves and to have the courage to say no when it comes to trying drugs.
I have learned that you are what you were when.
I have learned not to sweat the small stuff - it's the bigger stuff you have to worry about.
I have completed a half marathon, with a severely arthritic ankle and felt the immense joy and sense of pride as I crossed the finish line under my own power.
All in all - not too shabby.
I think that when this birthday arrives, I will welcome it with open arms and not hide from it. I will rejoice in the laugh lines that I have earned while watching my children grow. I will not count the grey hair that has suddenly become more noticeable, I will embrace the wisdom that they herald. I will not worry about the few extra pounds that have settled onto my hips since my teen years, I will instead remember the small children that I nurished within myself while gaining that extra weight.
So - Bring it on. The candles, the fire alarms and the laughter.
Yes, most of us know that we don't "look" our age. We appreciate the "wow - you are aging well!" comments. We even secretly hope that someone will try guessing our age, and come up many years short of the actual number. The fact is most women age well, unless there is some medical reason that prevents us from looking good, even at the advanced age of 35... Granted, there are those of our fairer sex that choose to slide into their grave with a martini in one hand and a cigarette in the other, screaming "whoo hoo - what a ride!" and take that to mean that they must squeeze every ounce of possible excitment from every second of their lives, and they look the part as well. For most of us, though, we just want to arrive at that moment and be able to say that we loved, were loved and will be missed.
Here I sit, faced with another of those "B" days looming ever closer, and another year coming to an unlamented end. And yet, I'm not as apprehensive about this birthday as I was when I turned 30. That year, I think I had to be sedated from the trauma of it. This year, I accept that I have to get older, and that getting older is the price we pay for experiencing life.
A good friend of mine said that there was something wonderful about turning 35: "You know what you do about the world, and you have accomplished so much". It made me think. What do I know? What have I really accomplished? Here is the list that I have come up with:
What I know:
I know that in order to receive love, you have to give it freely.
I know that there is no greater pleasure in life than listening to a child giggle.
I know that it is more important to give than to receive.
I know that what seems insurmountable is usually just a bump you leave behind soon enough.
I know that with age, wisdom and temperance soon follow.
I know that I have loved with all of my being and in return, I have been loved deeply by others.
I know that the quickest way to ensure something gets done, is to say it can't be done...
I know that no marriage is perfect, and that it takes a great deal of work to make it last.
I know that everyone needs to have at least one thing that they are passionate about - and are not afraid to have others know of it.
What I have really accomplished:
I have given birth, twice.
I have raised two beautiful, healthy (generally speaking) boys who genuinely love and respect others.
I have given those boys a solid moral base to stand on when things get rocky elsewhere.
I have been married to the same man for 15 years.
I have learned to accept that which I cannot change.
I have learned that one person cannot be everything to another. It's physically impossible.
I have created a website that I am passionate about, without preaching to anyone about it. It's simply my outlet and my passion.
I have taught young children to believe in themselves and to have the courage to say no when it comes to trying drugs.
I have learned that you are what you were when.
I have learned not to sweat the small stuff - it's the bigger stuff you have to worry about.
I have completed a half marathon, with a severely arthritic ankle and felt the immense joy and sense of pride as I crossed the finish line under my own power.
All in all - not too shabby.
I think that when this birthday arrives, I will welcome it with open arms and not hide from it. I will rejoice in the laugh lines that I have earned while watching my children grow. I will not count the grey hair that has suddenly become more noticeable, I will embrace the wisdom that they herald. I will not worry about the few extra pounds that have settled onto my hips since my teen years, I will instead remember the small children that I nurished within myself while gaining that extra weight.
So - Bring it on. The candles, the fire alarms and the laughter.
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