I do the cooking at home, and my wife is glad of it. Becky claims that if it’s got more than three ingredients, she can’t do it. That’s not quite true; she makes a great tuna noodle casserole.
But “Happy wife, happy life.” And we’re happy.
One of my favorite recipes is one I learned from my mother, who probably learned it from a can of Cambell’s soup. It’s so easy, and is great comfort food.
EASY BEEF STROGANOFF
NEEDED:
1 large pot (Dutch oven size)
1 saucepan (4 quart)
1 colander/strainer
INGREDIENTS:
1lb. ground beef
1 can Cambells Golden Mushroom soup
1 envelope onion soup (can be Lipton or store brand)
16 oz. semolina large shell noodles (can also be bow-ties or even linguine)
6-8 oz. sour cream
INSTRUCTIONS:
1- In the large pot, brown the ground beef
2- While the beef is browning, boil roughly 3 ½ quarts of water in the saucepan (almost but not quite full, really)
3- When the beef is browned, add the dry onion soup. Mix with the beef.
4- Once the onion soup is mixed with the beef, add the Golden Mushroom soup and 1 soup can of water.
5- Stir. Cover and reduce heat to simmer. Stir occasionally to keep mixture from sticking to the bottom of the pot.
6- Boil the noodles to package instructions in the saucepan.
7- Once the noodles are boiled, strain them in the colander/strainer.
8- Add sour cream to beef and soup mixture. Don’t add more than 8 oz. That would kill the taste.
9- Add noodles to the beef – soup – sour cream mix. Toss until well mixed.
SERVES 6-ISH
I’m aware that several companies dealing in the noodle trade have kept or increased prices while reducing the package size. It’s hard to find noodles that come in the 16 oz. size any more. I think the going size is 14 oz. That’s fine—you’ll have more sauce to enjoy.
Last Words: A Supernatural Murder Mystery Hanson and Brewer Murder Mysteries
Book One
Marty Roppelt
Genre: Mystery / Supernatural / Horror
Publisher: Dragon Breath Press
Date of Publication: February 7, 2025
ISBN: 979-8985349580
ASIN: B0D184PVWZ
Number of pages: 151
Word Count: 36,241
Cover Artist: Christopher Chambers
Tagline: Some cases cut deeper when the dead refuse to stay buried
Book Description:
Last Words: A Supernatural Murder Mystery follows Chicago police Detective Myles Hanson as he navigates a world of crime and unsettling revelations. After a nighttime raid on a drug lab ends in a deadly shootout, Myles is convinced to transfer to another unit. His first case in Violent Crimes is unlike any he’s faced before. Maria Peski, a midwife with a quiet life, is savagely murdered.
But that’s not the only mystery haunting him. Myles begins experiencing chilling visions and inexplicable phenomena. He begins to hear the final words of the dead, fragments of unfinished thoughts from those who have passed. As the voices reveal clues no one else can uncover, Myles teams up with his streetwise and relentless partner, Tank Brewer, to piece together the secrets that the dead have left behind.
When a second murder rocks the city with startling similarities, Myles is increasingly pressured to accept that some clues lie beyond the realm of the living. As the line between the supernatural and the real begins to blur, Myles and Tank must untangle a web of deceit, violence, and spectral warnings before the killer strikes again.
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BOOK
TRAILER: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/lU-_D-vPnRU
Excerpt:
Myles
paused at the glass doors to the Area North police station. He checked his
watch. Then he turned away from the entrance, paced roughly fifteen feet, added
several more steps and lit a Marlboro Light. He pulled his jacket collar up to
block an unusually crisp September breeze.
A
long strip of grass punctuated by an occasional shrub next to the building
attempted to soften the structure's strictly functional design. In the
courtyard, a few trees stood guard along with a twisting metal sculpture. But
the shades in all the windows were drawn, keeping the occupants' minds focused
on their tasks. The parking lot spread far in every direction. Several squad
cars waited there for their officers to climb in and begin their patrols.
Taking
in his surroundings, Myles shook his head. The Nineteenth District Patrol
station held more appeal to tourists to Chicago than did this location. A block
west of the Nineteenth on West Addison Street sat a busy elevated, or
"L," train station, over a century old and still flaunting its
original grid of iron spans and frames in the open. Another block further west,
Wrigley Field, home of the Chicago Cubs, buzzed with activity during home
stands. Across from the Nineteenth on Addison, a row of shotgun style houses
butted up against each other like a knot of sentinels standing shoulder to
shoulder. Some bore brownstone façades, some red brick. A thin sheen of grime,
car exhaust mostly, the grit of a busy city, covered them. All the dwellings
needed power washing or sand blasting.
He
knew that locale well, and it charmed even him.
But
no tourists visited this spot, the Area North station's locale. A massive tan
and brown brick building, Area North dwarfed the Nineteenth. Built in a
commercial and industrial zone, the station resembled a Big Box store in spite
of the unnaturally planted greenery. If not for the fleet of squad cars in the
sprawling lot, visitors might enter the north side's police nexus expecting to
buy a hot air fryer or bed linens.
Myles
nodded to himself. Area North was all business.
From
the corner of his eye, in the window nearest him, Myles spotted the reflection
of two women, one short and slight, the other tall and slender. They approached
from the parking lot arm-in-arm. The window distorted their shapes, giving them
a hot August day shimmer. Their pale complexions suggested a summer spent
together indoors. They both dressed for summer, each wearing tie-dyed blouses
but no jackets, immune to the cool day. The shorter one put Marla Hines in
mind. He recalled how she used to chide him whenever he sneaked out of the
Organized Crimes building for a quick smoke. As the pair neared him, they
opened their mouths, Myles assumed, to berate him.
"Sorry,
ladies," the smoker said. "I'll just put this out." He turned in
the women's direction.
They
were gone.
Frowning,
he swung his head around, scanning the area. Nothing. The parking lot lay empty
of everything but vehicles. Two uniformed cops exited the building. But no one
passed them heading in.
"Come
on, Hanson," he muttered.
He
stubbed the cigarette out on the heel of his shoe, deposited it into a nearby
trash can and entered the station.
Marty Roppelt lives in Wauconda, Illinois, with his wife Becky. Born and raised in Cleveland, Ohio, his family roots stem from Transylvania. Yes, THAT Transylvania, from where his parents emigrated in the mid 1950's. So of course, Marty enjoys writing in the supernatural / horror genre. In addition to his first novel, Mortal Foe, he has written a series of short paranormal Christmas stories to raise money for St. Herman’s House, a homeless shelter in Cleveland. He also has featured stories in anthologies, Tales from the Dragon's Lair and Holiday Hearth. Marty and Becky enjoy quiet time together with their cats Nala and Malik.
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