Order Form - Par: Fill & Download for Free

It’s not a conversation but a board notice or something:Nghat ma pyit ya.Don’t shoot the birds.Don’t go and say “don’t shoot the birds” in person. They will shoot you instead. :)Nghat - birdMa - negative particlePyit - shootYa - particle (sound like an order)Polite form:Nghat ma pyit par nae.Ma … nae - negative formPar … polite formYa … order formDirect translation of “Don’t kill birds”In spoken:Nghat ma that nae. (sound like order)Nghat ma that par nae. (sound like request)In signpost:Nghat ma that ya. (Warning/notice)

Most commercial pizza chains use a pre-formed, par cooked dough and they're baked in a convection oven I believe. A convection oven cooks faster, so higher temperatures at shorter cooking times, will accomplish what they need. A frozen pizza is also par cooked, but generally homes don't have 2 ovens, there's just one still oven. I keep a pizza stone in my oven to get a good crust on my breads. We make pizza too, and I have it set for 450-475 for both breads and pizza. Of course I keep an eye on what I'm baking. Pizza places have an assembly line to keep things moving, so the need to check constantly is pretty much eliminated.As for Ruth’s Chris, they only sear at a high temperature. Here's a description of it:The restaurant's signature is serving USDA prime steaks that are seared at 1800° Fahrenheit (982.2 °C) and served on ceramic plates heated to 500° Fahrenheit (260.0 °C). Half an ounce (1 Tbsp) of butter is added just before the plates leave the kitchen in order to create the signature 'sizzle'. Fertel firmly believed that the success of her steaks was due as much to the sound and smell of the 'sizzle' as well as the taste. "You hear that sizzle, and you think, 'I wonder if that's my steak'", she commented in an interview shortly before her death.The servers do warn diners about the plates, just like when diners get the smoking hot fajita skillet. I didn't find anything unusual about the steaks, apart from the plate. The prices are very high as well. Lucky for me my husband is a butcher and chef. I would much rather have him cook me a perfect steak on our regular stove and plates. I can even come barefoot to the table.

Gather ‘round, kids. Drop your smart phones and bring your hot chocolate.Had to get to the bank before 5 PM Friday if we wanted money for the weekend.Used to hear a busy signal if we called someone who was using their phone.Gasoline cost 28-cents/gallon, and we couldn’t pump it ourselves, and Asthat’s why a bell rang ding-ding as we drove into the gas station to alert the attendant he had a customer.The TV had to warm up before we saw anything, and we had to get up and go over to it to change the channel. And there were only 4-5 channels to change to.My girlfriend could slide over right next to me in the front seat of the car.As a toddler, I used to take a nap in the car on the rear deck above and behind the backseat.My dad used to wear a hat every day, even in the car! Hell, he wore a suit unless there was some good reason not to (like going to the beach or mowing the lawn).Getting our first power lawn mower was a great move into the modern world.In the fall, we used to burn the leaves in the street. The wonderful smell of burning leaves, and the smoke, filled the neighborhood.We used to look into a neighbor’s window because they had a color TV, and it was an amazing thing to see that Bozo the Clown actually had red hair.A 10-speed bicycle was both exotic and seemingly unnecessary although I found 5-speeds a bit more useful than 3 although I got around nicely on 1-speed.Having a transistor radio with a leather case was very fancy. Having a transistor radio at all was fancy and changed life at the beach.FM radio was kind of weird and used only for broadcasting “classical” music, and nobody had an FM receiver, anyway.Adjusting the rabbit ears would improve TV reception, and sometimes adjusting the Vertical Control was necessary to stabilize the picture.Mom used to let me fill out the order form for the milkman who came in the morning and left us dairy products on the back stoop.Some guy used to come down our street pushing a wheelbarrow that rang a bell every revolution of his wheel. He sharpened knives. You ran out with your knives, and he sharpened them for some cash.I used to step in dog poop all the time since dogs ran around free.I cracked my head open a few time learning to ride a bicycle. Bicycle helmets were unheard of.I learned to hit baseballs well by hitting the hanging rope swing hung from a tree limb in our back yard. How else would I learn?The snow was dirty because of all the coal smoke settling down.There was something at the library called a card catalog. It was a little like Google. No it wasn’t. Hard to explain.The only place with air conditioning was movie theaters and perhaps the weird store or two.I remember going to this novel, new restaurant called “McDonald’s.” It was a “destination” and novelty even if not very tasty.I could only find Dr. Pepper in Texas, and Coors in Colorado.Urgent information was sent by telegram.Any telephone call to some place out of your immediate locale (your local exchange, the same first three digits of the phone number) required the intervention of The Operator and was considered “long distance.”TV Westerns were the most popular genre.How much money was in my savings account at the bank? Look in the passbook and/or go to the bank when it’s open.Want oranges and tangerines? Wait until Christmas time.The National Parks were a great escape before everyone and their cousin showed up, not to enjoy the wilderness, but to transplant their noisy urban experience and social norms to the pleasant places it had not yet demolished.I fully expected that, in my lifetime, we’d 1) have at least a functioning Moon base and regular travel to there if not further, 2) have our energy requirements fully supplied by atomic power, 3) have functioning and ambulatory robots in every home, 4) and be one cohesive and perhaps world-wide society.By cracky young person, I was 26 before I saw an ATM, and it was really cool! Only a bit earlier were there things like drive-thru fast-food windows. Used to have to plan things back in the prehistoric days.To buy shoes, I had to endure some guy measuring my feet (incorrectly, always) and dragging out boxes of possibles for me to try on.By golly, every fall my dad had to take down the screens from all the windows and put on storm windows. Every spring, he’d reverse the process. Never fell off the ladder!For air conditioning, we used window fans in all or most of the windows, either blowing air into or out of the rooms — never sure which worked best. Since neither worked well, we’d just go to a movie to cool off in the AC at the theaters. Or literally jump in the lake, Lake Michigan being only about a 20-minute walk from home.Wall-to-wall carpeting was the height of luxury, young sprout. Now, bare wooden floors are all the rage.Likewise, a kitchen appliance clad in stainless steel was ugly and fit only for commercial use; now, if the appliances are colored, they are “so retro, man!”Hey, kid, when I was a kid, no luggage had rollers or wheels. Nice invention, I’ll say, but back then, men were men and women were women, which meant men hauled the women’s luggage except for the makeup case (which was about the size of a small carry-on today).We dressed for travel, youngster, on the plane, the train, or even driving. By gosh, we’d not go get on a plane unless we had on some nice clothes. Look at old pictures of plane passengers! It was really like that.And on that note, it was fun to fly. People looked nice and were on good behavior, the stewardesses were pretty, the food was pretty good (to me) with meals even on short hops, the cockpit often open so kids like me could go up and see the stuff up there., and there was no security checkpoints — you just parked your car and walked onto the plane, pretty much.Trains were fun, shorty. To get from Chicago to Austin, we’d take the B&O railroad to St. Louis, then transfer to the Texas Eagle to Dallas, then transfer to the Santa Fe to Austin . . . or the other way around, or something like that . . . all of us dressed up in wool and not peeing while stopped at a station since the pee (and worse) was just discharged down onto the tracks when you flushed the toilet. Which is why some stations had a peculiar smell of oil, grease, and other.Hey, kid. Ever seen an Elm tree? Too bad.In the fireplace, we’d not only burn wood, but also chunks of cannel coal. It’s coal, or shale. Stunk up the room nicely and dirtied the chimney something fierce, but it made great crackling sounds as it burned.Kid, I don’t see it today, but we’d regularly have two kinds of people come by fairly often:1. At the front door, a door-to-door salesman selling encyclopedias, vacuums, jewelry, brushes, or belt buckles.2. At the back door, “bums” or “tramps” looking for some food or a bit of cash or other handouts.Mom was gracious to both. It wasn’t all that long after the War (WWII, kid, look it up), and she remembered.Junior, listen up. I hitchhiked (look it up) from Chicago to Kingsville, TX when I was 16, in the winter, and with $30 in my pocket. Took about two weeks, sleeping by the road or in someone’s house who had picked me up for a few miles. Really interesting experiences, none bad.Hell, Junior, lots of folks were hitchhiking back in those days. My dad would always pick up a man in uniform (he remembered), but we kids tended to get around that way before we could drive, and it was quite a thing for older kids to travel the country that way. Now try it out, sprout! Good luck.Kid, I figure lots of vets from The War had PTSD, but nobody talked about it or knew it to be a thing. My dad didn’t talk about The War because, as he put it, “Nobody asked, and if they did, they didn’t stick around long enough to hear the answer.” Lots of tales were left untold in when it mattered, but they can be found. If anyone is interested.On the same subject, my dad got a Bronze Star. It was seemingly not important to him: “They gave out Bronze Stars to anyone who showed up,” as he put it. Maybe yes, maybe no, but it was common in his generation to be modest. Today, kid, people brag about waking up in the morning or eating being gluten intolerant. Sorry, kid, but there are perspectives.More to come, for the list is endless . . . isn’t it?There were telegrams. (There still are, actually, but it’s not common at all).We used to cut off the tops of our cereal boxes (like Corn Flakes) and send them in for rewards of some kind. Send in your box tops, kids!