Save Money, Make Food... FROM SCRATCH

we're strapped for cash. what's new, right? i mean, i'm not the only person out here totally strapped, so i'm not fretting too deeply. i mean, i have an ex-husband who's lost another job and may be at the end of his rope, so i don't look at my situation as horrific. it's par for the financial course and we adjust to accommodate it, right? i have skills in the home that can work to our benefit and one of those is that i can cook just about anything. really. and so i have.

yesterday, i made two loaves of bread, two pints of fresh berry jam and an interesting lunch the boys devoured (nicholas took to lunch at school the other day). like the black beans, i made something from basic ingredients we keep around the house. i made something with corn tortillas, ground beef, leftover rice, spices, salsa, and cheese. it was YUM TUM... oops, wait, let's show you what we did and you'll see how it works:

INGREDIENTS:

1 garlic clove, minced
1 pound ground beef
2 cups leftover rice
1 tsp. oregano
1 tsp. ground coriander
1/2 tsp. ground cardamom
1/2 tsp. cumin
1/4 tsp. cayenne
1 cup mixed cheese, grated (i used some yummy chevre and organic cheddar)
salt and pepper to taste
4 corn tortillas
1 jar chunky salsa (if you can get fresh salsa or make it yourself, great)
1 tbs. olive oil

what to do:
1. Preheat the oven to 350º and spray vegetable oil in a deep casserole with a lid.
1. heat the olive oil in a 12" pan. add the garlic clove and stir until it's fragrant -- about 2 minutes.
2. add the ground beef and saute until brown. add the rice and brown through.
3. add the seasonings -- oregano, coriander, cardamom, cumin, and cayenne (that's a lot of "c's"), stir until cooked through, about 2 - 3 minutes, hten set aside.
4. it's time to layer. spray the bottom of a casserole with vegetable spray and layer a spread of salsa (can be store bought, but the best and chunkiest you can get, the better) the put down one corn tortilla, lay some salsa on top, add some beef mixture then sprinkle with a little cheese, layer three more times then end with the salsa and some cheese on top. this is basically like a lasagna. Bake in a 350ºF oven for about 10-15 minutes.
5. when you take it out, the cheese should be bubbly and melted. cut as with lasagna and serve with a fresh salad with a light dressing.

what did we think: as i said, nicholas took this to school for lunch and brandon had two servings. i tasted it and it was yum. i know times are hard for everyone and i'm sorry, truly. we're in the middle of it, too. and whatever i can pass along that might help, food wise, i'll do.

cuz that's what friends are for.
thanks, Dionne, Stevie, Gladys, and Elton
:o)

Beans are Magically Delish

i love beans. i do. i love black beans (or turtle beans, if you're into the various verbage for food), great northern beans, pinto beans, lentils, blah, blah, blah. i can be transported by a simple dish of cannelinis that are perfectly mixed with steamed, chilled baby shrimp, chopped prosciutto, some good balsamic, a quick brush with garlic and tossed with butter lettuce. it's one of my faves, so i'm easy like that. there's this place in l.a. called maple drive that makes a salad like that and i used to order it to be delivered to my house once a week. honest. and i'm not a believer in having dinner delivered to my house (i'd just rather cook it, as you can see). loved this salad. absolutely lived on it.

i can be happy with a good bowl of well-made beans on rice and nothing else. it's a complete protein when it's prepared that way. yep, it is. swear. if you pair legumes with grains -- preferrably those really great grains like brown rice, wild rice, quinoa and stuff like that -- then you're a happy, peppy (and potent) protein producer. it's good for you and they taste yummy if done right.

now, as you all may (or may not) know, i am an ardent follower of one reality show and one reality show only -- TOP CHEF. i love Project Runway, so don't get me wrong, but i watched one episode of that show this season, cuz i was way busy with other things, but when it comes to TOP CHEF, tom collechio owns me. for sure. and i will not miss my show. i'm so jazzed that it's starting, i can't even tell you. but i'm actually digressing... as i am wont to do, so let me get to the point. i watch a lot of Top Chef and in last season's top chef, one of my all time fave contestants got kicked off in the eleventh hour because she UNDERcooked her pigeon peas in puerto rico. i was heartbroken when she did that -- final cookoff jitters, i'm sure -- and especially when she gave the excuse of wanting to cook her peas al dente. um, there's no such thing as al dente in legume-ville. oh, you'll read places that talk about not cooking them to mush (i'm gonna have a tale about that at the backend of this, no worries), but beans aren't like pasta. the firmer is SOOOO not the better. uh, uh. or, at least, in my opinion. my blog, my rules. live with it.

okay, so, why am i telling you all of this? cuz i made what i am thinking is one of the greatest pots of bean feasting ever created. it is savory, it is the right consistency and it makes me happy. i do that from time to time, put up large vats of beans and freeze or can them. my kids like them over rice with tortillas, some good cheese, steak or chix and a flavorful salad. they just roll all that up together into a tortilla and down it. sometimes we do without the tortillas and there are just huge leaves of lettuce for them to wrap the whole mess in and they're happy.

i like it when my kids are happy, cuz, then, i'm happy. the sun even seems to shine a little bit more golden when my kids are happy, so i'm good with that.

but, anyway, tonight, i decided to make a big pot of black beans with chunks of sweet turkey italian sausage sauteed and dropped in them for good measure. i was going to add this to a bowl of steamed rice, a sprinkling of really good chevre left over from the obama celebration (which continues, believe me -- my friend, jonathan, who is a tres cool dude, made a JOKING suggestion for me to do a 100 days party and i'm so gonna... oh, yeah... thanks jp!) all accompanied by a good salad of romaine, japanese apple pear chunks and the smokey, spicey, sweet almonds i also made for the party. however, my eldest teen, who is the only one home tonight (my younger, at the end of tweendom kid is off partying with his "big brothers of america big brother"... and when i say partying, i mean playing video games and when i say playing video games i mean... well... playing video games), is exhausted from a day of thinking about cleaning the house and regaling the local borders bookstore with his dulcet musical tones with the rest of his middle school and he's fast asleep upstairs. has been for the last several hours. so no one is home to eat what i had hoped would be a masterpiece of comfort food other than me -- and i'm not all that hungry -- and the dog -- who is no way getting that (although i did give her some carrots and grapes earlier -- she's really into the veg thing. go figure.)

okay, so, i'm rambling and, well, i'll tell you the deal after i tell you what i concocted.

POT OF BLACK GOODNESS
ingredients:
1 large clove garlic, minced
1/2 onion, diced
2 stalks celery, diced
1 1/2 tbs olive oil
1 tsp kosher salt
1/2 tsp fresh ground pepper
1 tsp. italian seasoning (preferably organic)
1 package sweet italian sausage -- turkey
2 1/2 cups black beans (rinsed, picked through, soaked for a bit -- overnight, two hours, whichever tricks your trigger)
4 cups of cold, filtered water
1 bay leaf
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp coriander
1 tsp cardamom
1 tsp. dried oregano, crumbled
pinch cayenne pepper
salt and pepper to taste

what to do:
1. soak the beans, if you're into that, and set aside.
2. heat your olive oil in a dutch oven for about 10 seconds then add the garlic, the onion and celery, sauteeing over a medium-high heat until fragrant and soft, about 3 minutes, making sure not to brown. add the salt, pepper and italian seasoning, stirring to combine. add the italian sausage, whole, and sautee until lightly brown on each side then add the drained beans and the 4 cups of water. add the bay leaf and bring to a boil. turn the heat down and bring to a simmer. DO NOT COVER.
3. simmer these little suckers. as soon as the italian sausage is cool enough to handle, cut them into medium sized chunks and add to the simmering water. simmer the entire pot for about 2 hours, check the tenderness of the beans and water level of the pot to make sure they aren't burning, adding more water if necessary. add the rest of the spices, including the salt and pepper.
4. cook the water down until the beans are creamy and tender, adding more spices if necessary (do this to your taste). remove the bay leaf and serve over steamed rice with a nice sprinkling of chevre or goat cheese on top.

i tasted this and, oh, this worked out VERY well. excellently well. i smiled. and it was just me, sitting on the couch, with my dog sleeping beside me, and tasting this in a small ramekin with a spoon as my only companion to share this. oh, man... maybe it's because it's night time, and i'm all by my lonesome, i'm getting ready to do some serious all night writing, and there's a serious comfort food thing about it, but i'm loving this recipe that's just been concocted. i could get into this.

and, now, my partying/videogame playing tween child has returned and is full of happiness about his evening, so i must, absolutely go to him and hear his joy at being able to zone out for as long as he has noticing the moon is glowing more brightly than before because of the reflection of giddy happy coming off of my kid , but, first a brief story about the al dente beans i experienced...

i have a couple of soup cookbooks. i like them and use them, often. i'm a soup girl, for sure. so, anyway, one of them has a recipe for tuscan white bean and shrimp soup, which is one of my faves, up there with Straggiatella and Pasta a Fagioli. oh, yeah. okay, so, i'm reading through the recipe first -- which one should ALWAYS DO -- and discovered this particular cookbook said they don't soak their beans first and they cook their beans just to doneness. they like having a little bite to their beans. okay, i thought. i'd never done that before, but i'm game, right?

oy... the recipe itself is fantastic, the flavor really good and the whole combo really amazing. it was the underdoneness of the beans that totally got me a little "hmm... this is one of those 'i need to think for myself' times". i still love the cookbook and i still use it, faithfully. i just do what i want with the bean soups, because i am absolutely not into al dente legumes. they don't need to be mush, so don't misunderstand me, but a little bite and not even cooked are too different things. oh, yeah.

such a little thing. a pot of beans. but a yum, happy thing just the same. and that's all right with me.

FEAST FOR OBAMA BIDEN

i mentioned that last night we had a bit of a fiesta of food and friendship (nice f words are fun). i kind of skirted over it, but it was very food oriented and deserves its own blogspot of its very special own... ness.

the idea came to me awhile ago to do a happy hour with my buddies here in the red middle of the country and it was really for no particular reason, just a chance to hang and get toasted with work people, actually. but, when i had to postpone it, i realized the friday after the election would be a good day to celebrate or commiserate (yikes!) as we saw fit. i had no idea what i was going to serve, just where to do it: my friend, melissa's, party room in her condo building... as i said in the last post. so, no, i don't have short term memory loss. think of this as a television soap opera and i am recapping all of the highlights from the last episode in the first 30 seconds. sound fair?

good.

okay, so my pal kindly agreed to work out the logistics of getting the room while i said i would do the food. she looked at me as if i had gone mad and i pointed out that, ya know, i used to do this for a living and liked doing it and got into the habit of entertaining like this, so i had to do it my way OR I WOULD GO FREAKIN' CRAZY!!! i just couldn't go and grab some wine, bread, cheese, fruit, crackers, lay it out and sit back. i had it to be what I WANTED for a happy hour that would last way past normal happy hour time -- it went from 5:30 until 11:00 at night, but pro'ly would have gone later if we'd done it on a saturday. pro'ly. anywho, so i began the process of putting together a menu for the shindig which was pretty fantastic and fun for me, cuz i hadn't done that for a long time, not since this siesta thing i had done soon after i moved here to thank the women who had welcomed me into their friendship-y kinda hearts. a total girly party with little slippers for yummy relaxation, mini-electric massagers and lots of sleepy areas to just chill the whole afternoon through.

i'm doin' that again. i LOVED getting that ready.

but, as always, i digress...

for this party, i wanted to have food that would appeal to vegans, vegetarians, non-beef AND beef eaters. men and women, boozehounds and highbrows. a good mix of yums as well as sweets that could give people lots of smiles, hopefully. when i looked at the menu i initially created i heard a voice inside of me say, in a rather sarcastic and irritating voice, "yeah, that TOTALLY makes sense. that won't stress you out AT ALL... right..." there were about 20 main course dish things on this list. how crazy i am is really my own burden to bear, i promise. i don't put it on my kids too, too much and try not to have my friends have to bear the load for me (anymore), but, yes, i'm nuts. and i'm all right with that (and i'm allowed to say things like "nuts" and "looney" when speaking of myself, because i used to work for the Mental Health Association of Los Angeles County, was a staunch advocate for mental health and focused on policies surrounding the better treatment for those suffering from it and have a deep and abiding affection for the cause, mean this in the absolutely least derogative way to those who actually suffer from mental illness and would never, in a million years, use this in serious discussion of such, so just back off). WHEW! might be some baggage there i need to clear up, but as i was saying, i needed to really shave off those dishes. i did... and i told myself that... and i did...

but not by much.

i now possess enough wine to make me able to go to book club without having to BUY a bottle of wine for a solid 2 years and that's only if we actually have book club every single month or i go every single month. if we or i skip a month, i have enough wine for much longer. i also have enough food to feed my sons without having to cook a single thing for the next full week as in 7 days... that is, if my sons weren't already taller than i, weigh more than i hope i EVER WILL and 11 and 12 1/2 size feet (and they are, as a reminder, as soap operas do, 12 and 13 years old... yep... ).

but, and i can not say this enough, that doesn't matter to me, because i loved each and every minute of putting this together, creating the list, making the food, plating it, writing what would go with what, finding the right platters, etc. i LOVED IT! it exhausted me, i am still, now, so tired, i can't close my eyes and i had to be up at 5:15 in the morning to take my older son to his last weekend of football so we could be there at 6:30 in the morning for weigh in and it was 32 degrees outside in a blustery wind (um, in case you didn't realize, they play that sport outside). i didn't go to sleep until a bit after 2:00 in the morning, because i was unloading my car of all the stuff i had taken to the party and putting away anything that could go bad if left out, which was a lot. thank the wondrous energy of faith based perfection (whatever your choice might be with that) for my having two fridges, 2 regular sized freezers and one deep freeze ( i also have a gas stove sitting in my garage waiting to be hooked up or sold, whichever becomes more vital to my existence, but that's another story for another time). i would do it again in a heartbeat, i'd do it every weekend if i could. i love feeding my friends and family in a festive atmosphere and here's why:

because it's pure joy, love, warmth, caring, passion, desire, life. food, to me, is not just sustenance. it is an event, it is beauty. when treated the right way, to me, food becomes a door opening up for new ways of talking, loving, being. i can not tell you enough how deep my affection for cooking goes. i would give everything up (except for writing, my children, my pets and my family, so not EVERYTHING, but everything else... oh, and except my friends. i like my friends a lot) to be able to cook in a great kitchen for the rest of my life and share that cooking with many people. not like in a restaurant, but in my home. cooking, eating, FEEDING is communal. i like the social aspect of it, the way of tasting something, letting it sit upon your tongue, savor it and enhance your next sentence or what you are hearing. it incorporates all of the senses and i like that about it as well.

the response last night was lovely to the food and i appreciate that, to be sure. i want to cook well so that when my friends or family taste the food it makes them feel loved, makes them feel good, so it definitely matters to me to have people enjoy my food, but that's not why i do it, so that they'll tell me how cool i am. what made the evening so great was being able to present something i felt underscored how important the occasion was simply by my desire to pull out the stops for the spread. because this is a momentous occasion in our nation's history and in my own doubts about my desire to remain in this country.

when our president was announced on tuesday night, my sons and i were ecstatic. but it wasn't until later, when i was sitting alone, that the tears came, because i realized i could feel belief in my heart again. that my love of country was something very true and real, because i didn't know, until that moment, that if the other candidate had won, i would have sold everything, packed up the kids, the pets and some cookbooks and moved to another country without a second thought. i understood then that all my talking about it wasn't just that. i meant it with all my heart.

but now i'm not. now, i am completely ready to see where life takes us and, right now, life's a bit hard for us, like so many others. but i see a light at the end of the tunnel that i feel will overtake all things in my life. and that's why i created the menu i did for the friends who matter so much in my life. here's the menu for us to check out just for giggles (but no recipes this time, sorry... those are secret and mine -- i know, what a bitch, right? get over it):

olive tapenade w/crostini
hummus w/pita chips
spicy marinated olives and caper berries
sweet and spicy cumin almonds
fresh and dried fruit basket with assorted cheeses
hot and gooey brie w/warm bread and assorted crackers
guacamole w/tortilla chips
onion dip w/kettle potato chips
marinated roasted veggies
minced tofu in won ton cups
minced chicken in won ton cups
vegetable summer rolls w/ponzu dipping sauce
shrimp summer rolls w/sweet spicy dipping sauce
bul goki bundles on warm rice cakes w/scallion dipping sauce
giant chocolate chip cookies
orange ginger oatmeal cookies
fudgy brownies
mixed berry trifle
mojitos, wine, beer, water

assortment, as they say, is the spice of life. it was fun and i can't wait to do it again. but, even more than that, this feeling inside is amazing.

last year, my younger son came up to me and told me he wanted to be the first black president of the united states. i told him then that this guy who was putting his campaign together, obama, might beat him there. he stopped, thought, then said, "well, then i'll be the first MIXED RACE president in the united states." i pointed out that obama was already mixed race. he thought another second then said, "well, i guess i better find out what he's all about." he was 10 at the time. now he's 12 and it was him and my other son who were downstairs while i was up in the kitchen cooking calling out the election results for me. it was all they watched tuesday night and when i cracked open some rather delicious spanish sparkling wine to celebrate the victory, they both cheered with me.

as for me, to quote the exquisitely haunting and subtly passionate nina simone:

it's a new dawn
it's a new day
it's a new life for me
and i'm feelin' good...

maybe that should be the anthem for the president elect's victory of 2008?
maybe so.

Spaghetti a la Greg

missing someone can take its toll. their face, their smell, their spirit, their style -- people have so many facets that when you miss them, you miss the big, the small, and the whole of them. we are complex beings and, because of that, grief comes in different packages and guises, depending on the person you have... lost? no. sounds too much like misplacing them. you have had to go on in life without. better. i don't know of one word that would describe that kind of sorrow. and i'm (supposedly) a writer.

my father died. 12 years ago, 26 august. he died. gone. never to be seen again, except in memory, pictures and, luckily or not for me, film. my father is gone and he is never coming back. and as of 12 years ago, we had said our goodbyes in the lonely, silent place he had called his home for sometime, Las Vegas. and i miss him still. i miss him always.

my dad was a hard guy. truly. he had an edge that the streets and a rough life created far younger than anyone should bear. i remember hearing stories about how his mother handed him a "no more jim crow" sign when he was 3 and made him walk the line with her. 3. when my MIXED RACE sons were three, they were playing in a sandbox (or eating the sand, depending on which kid it was) and learning about sharing. shit.

i think sometimes, late at night, about how he might view my life, the world as it is now and the fact that we now have the first black president EVER. how amazing that all is. how i wish he was here to see it. and last night, as i celebrated this extraordinary event with friends at a feast i put together in the party room my sweeter than i ever say friend, melissa, was kind enough to provide and help me set up AND break down at her condo building, i couldn't help but think about my dad and, once in awhile, i had to excuse myself to the restroom and cry it out a bit. just a bit :o)

i learned to cook because of my father AND mother. they made the kitchen an amazing place to be and their sensibilities were geared toward homey food and fine food, both. my father was a true chops/grill kind of guy -- restaurants like Tail Of The Cock and Cock 'N Bull in L.A. were his staples, along with Musso & Frank's Grill and Hamburger Hamlet. he didn't much care for steaks, actually, or food cooked with wine, but he loved pot roast and ox tails and short ribs, deeply. and it was from him or through him or because of him that i discovered a true and unabiding adoration for soup. i love to make it, eat it and have it in my life. yum.

oh, and i also got my appetite -- which sucks -- from my dad. not his body type -- all legs, shoulders and skinny -- but his appetite. thanks.

when i was a kid, and i'm sure i've mentioned, my father would bring home these italian dinners created by one of the guys on his crew's mothers -- did that even make sense? let me try that again, dinners made by the mother of one of the guys at work. better. they were sicilian and she would make chicken cacciatore, lasagna and other things. my fave, for all time, was her spaghetti with sausage and boiled eggs. in sicily, because of money, boiled eggs in pasta are the poorman's meatball and i can't eat spaghetti without it now. nope. it's amazing. i adore it. it's one way to get me to eat pasta (of which i am, unfortunately, not a fan, unless it's asian or linguini alla vongole -- with clams/white sauce, not red, please). it is a heartwarming memory and a dish i perfected to the point that my father would ask me to make it for him whenever i'd see him. and i would. because i loved him (love him still).

SPAGHETTI AND BOILED EGGS -- this is a one pot meal. trust me
ingredients:
1 pound good, imported spaghetti
kosher salt
2 count of fruity olive oil
1 clove garlic, minced
1 shallot, diced
large jar of pasta sauce (or your own homemade, which is what i use)
1 package good italian sausage -- either bulk or link, cooked and set aside
dried herbs: oregano, thyme, basil
1 bay leaf
salt and pepper to taste
4 boiled eggs, peeled
parmeggiano reggiano for sprinkling
crusty bread for dipping
your appetite

what to do:
1. so easy, really, cook the spaghetti or your fave long, thinnish pasta is good for this (not angel hair, too thin, and not fettucini, too flat and thick, although buccatini is yum with it) to the package directions, with a nice, healty pinch of salt to the water for taste. drain the spaghetti reserving about 1/4 cup of pasta water and DO NOT RINSE -- the starch that clings to pasta is what helps the sauce adhere to it. fun fact, i know.
2. in the same pot in which you cooked the pasta, heat it to medium for 10 seconds then add the 2 count of olive oil to the pan. let that heat for about 10 seconds then add the garlic and shallots and let them become aromatic, not browned (about 1-2 minutes). add the pasta sauce, cooked sausage (if using the links, just cut in two. you want big chunks with this), stir to combine, then add the herbs and let simmer a bit to get the flavors to mix.
3. taste for salt and pepper then add to your liking. add a bit of the pasta water for body, taste again, then add your boiled eggs, stir and let simmer for about 5-10 minutes, getting the flavor of the sauce into the eggs.
4. take a good forkful of pasta, put it in the center of the plate, laddle some sauce, add an egg then serve with plenty of good parmeggiano reggiano passed around.

this serves four and can be made the day before and kept in the fridge to really get the flavors blended. i'm certain this is NOT the original recipe of my dad's crew guy's mom, but it's the one i began working up when i was a kid and it's stuck. what's changed for me is i make my own meatballs and add them in, my own pasta sauce and cook the sauce for a lot longer, simmer it for awhile and give extra eggs to whomever wants them. sounds odd, but the meal works.

and, as always, a little interesting history about this: the last time my father was in the hospital, my bro and i were up in vegas checking him out, taking care of his apartment, moving him from upstairs to downstairs, because he was too weak to make it up the stairs anymore and just settling him in. for the last time, it would turn out, but we didn't know that. or, really? we did know it, inside somehow. there was a gentleness to everything we did, a fulfillment of a promise that was unspoken in some way.

during the last day of our being there, helping out, my brother and my dad were going to go check on some things out on the town while i stayed behind at my dad's place and did these specifically requested things for him: he wanted me to make him some pot roast, fry him some chicken, cook him up some greens, do a lasagna and, most importantly, make my spaghetti and eggs so he could have food. now, my brother and i had rented one car for the two of us and my dad and he took that when they went out on their errands. one of my brother's best friends from the elementary school days who was now living in las vegas was going to be around and suggested he drive me to the market and help me out. our flight was leaving that night, so i had a limited time to do all the cooking i needed to, and i was grateful for the help. okay, ecstatic. that morning, my brother dropped me at my dad's while he went off with him to go erranding for the day and while i waited for my brother's friend, who was like family to us, to come and pick me up...

... and waited...
...and waited...
... then called his pager...
... and waited (this is pre-portable cellphones that didn't cost a million bucks to own)...
... called his house and left a message...
... paged him again... paged him again... called his house again...
... and waited...

i toyed with calling a cab, but didn't know when my brother would be back, how long it would take the cab to come, get me to the market, get me back, and all that. did i still have time to cook this stuff? what was i going to do?

just as my brother returned with my father, a mere hour before our plane was leaving, my brother's friend finally showed up. this is as i am hugging my father goodbye, telling him how sorry i was that i didn't get to cook his stuff, and then rushing to get into the rental to return it to the airport. this guy showed up then.

my father died 2 months later and i never saw him again.
and i never will in my lifetime see my father walk into a room again.
it took me more years than i like to think to forgive this guy for bailing on me. i don't know if i really ever have. i mean, i adore him and all his irresponsible foibles -- he is a sweet man, his heart is in the right place, but life just gets in the way sometimes, doesn't it? yes, it does. and so i do forgive him that. i forgive him the human issues that arise for all of us, because i have them myself. hey, i suck at housekeeping, still live like i'm in a dorm room and wonder why my head is so full of crap all the time. and i have two kids, all my own, who need me to be WAY more responsible about this kind of role model shit than i am, but whatcha gonna do, right? and, so, my heart is still open and full of this guy, my bro's friend who is like family.

but i never got to cook the stuff for my dad again. i didn't and that is something my mind has a bit of a hard time processing, for all my self-investigationg, inner awareness and getting to a place of peace. i'm still the little girl inside looking up at her impossibly tall father and thinking he would live forever.

last night's celebration was wonderful, exhausting and i'm so tired, i can't sleep because of it. we celebrated a new day, friendship, life in general. sometimes you just need a party. for me, i celebrated this moment in history and wept for the fact that my father had not lived to see this. a man who admitted that the reason he didn't march with martin luther king, jr. was because "the first time someone threw a rock at a child, i'd kick their ass. not very good for the passivity movement, i'm afraid." and i know, now, my father would be so incredibly proud of his country, a country he and my mother taught me to believe in and in which i had lost belief. but i found it again, and i think, more than anything, that would make my father happy. that i found a way to believe again. cuz my dad loved me. and that matters to me.

food, how are you?

i've been working out and eating right. i want to get in shape. i moved to the midwest and let myself go. a bit. and no one sees me. i mean, no one really sees, well, me. no one looks twice at me, no one notices who i am, no one really... even... cares. oh, my kids do. they love me and tell me wonderful things. i hope they know that. i hope they know how much i appreciate how beautiful they believe i am. even when i'm being hagatha. but it's only them. i can't remember when anyone, okay, a guy, told me i was beautiful or i looked nice or looked at me more than just in passing.

and i'm lonely. in a way that makes me stay up late at night (no matter how hard i've worked out, although my insomnia isn't quite as wretched since i've been working out as i have been). in a way that makes me want to uproot myself and my children, move to europe and cook amazing food while living in some bizarre stone home, learning a totally different language and allowing my hair to go wild, free and know why truffles really are so revered (okay, i already know that, but my brother would like to understand more). in a way that makes me wonder what the hell i'm doing with my life that i feel so lonely at a point in my life when all i should be worrying about is whether my kids are happy at school and i'm living my life to the fullest, as i had always hoped.

silly, isn't it? romantic fluff, especially after so long away from the blog that you all probably haven't checked back once. no worries. i write this more for myself than anything, because i suck at keeping journals. always have. and, quite frankly, now that i've determined no one really reads this, i've figured that i can say anything i want, as long as i bring it back to food, right?

and it's getting there.

i don't eat after 7 p.m. anymore. truly. not just a hopeful thing, but really. so if i get to 7 and i haven't had dinner yet, then i won't. that's how i roll these days. at this moment, i am so hungry, i could eat my bunny food -- oh, wait, i forgot to tell you. we got two incredibly gorgeous polish dwarf black bunnies at the state fair just a couple of weeks ago. so sweet -- Cocoa and Peanut -- two girls who are just the greatest loves. they live in bugsy's old castle and are dee-vine. but, anyway, back to food -- the hunger is dissipating, but the way i figure it, i'm 45+ and if i want a healthy lifestyle along with killer abs, i better damn well ignore hunger pangs at an hour that is way too icky for me and my body.

what has this to do with cooking, you're thinking. well, i'll tell you. i have begun creating recipes more than using those out of books. although, the other night, i made a killer shrimp and scallop curry to roll over and play dead for with a base of a cook book here. brandon even ate the rice (how cool is that) and the shrimp. brandon hates shrimp. he ate the rice, the shrimp and scallops. and smiled, asking for more. nicholas devoured the shrimp and rice, but didn't like the scallops. happens, but kept complimenting me on my cooking and how "great" i was... am. my sons love me. that means more than anything. except, late at night, when the dog takes over the bed, the bunnies are hopping about and i'm watching one too many romantic comedies for my own good. blech!

the exquisite delight in my dinner blew me away, but didn't take away the need for romance. i want romance. i want the dream. i don't believe in knights in shining armor, but i do believe in love. crazy, i know, but i do. and i believe in slow, languid meals in front of a fireplace, unrushed and full of exquisite passion. i believe in that shit.

marriage? not so much.
romance? a lot more.

so i cook, and i don't clean (suck at it, hoping to get better). i have no recipes tonight, no magical cookbook insights to share. what i have is a clarity on who i am. i'm a woman who loves to write, who loves to cook and who loves to feed others with both. and i don't know who to do that for in an intimate way. or, better still, i don't have anyone to do that for and, no, this is not a call to some weird arms for all those folks out there. it's just me saying what i feel. it's not a call for help. trust me. it's just a vent.

let me vent.

it'll come, i suppose, but, in the meantime, i'll play in the kitchen and with words. i'll walk in both worlds and see just how it feels to eat life and enjoy it without worry. i'll try that.

and forget, for awhile, that... well... it doesn't matter. not here.

we'll continue our journey through food and see where we go.
i quite like that.

Long Time Gone

i have been changing. inside. searching for meaning inside of my kitchen. over the next three weeks, i shall be testing fantabulous cookie recipes to sell. to whom, i am unclear, but sell them i shall. and in my quest for cookie perfection, i realize i'm not much of a cookie person. in truth, i'm not much of a sweets person -- cakes, candy, donuts. not really my bag. however, i believe there is a way to finesse cookies and scones, actually. cakes as well. finesse them and make them marvelously delicious with a unique feel and taste.

there is beauty in desserts. mouthfuls of wonder. it can be done. by me? well, i don't know. but i'm willing to try.
my sons like the idea.
so that's cool with me.

Ode to Pizza

i do not eat pizza. perhaps i have mentioned that in the past. it does not agree with me. arguments abound between me and the saucy, cheesy dreamboat of so many people's lives -- including my own son's -- but our quarrel runs deep, long and, unfortunately, has caused us to have quite the riff.

oh, i'll make it. from scratch even. but, for me, pizza has become one of those foods that if i buy it frozen and plop it in the oven for my beloved chilly-b boys, i'm cool with that. yep. you read right. i'm cool with frozen pizza (although i also keep homemade dough in the freezer, so go figure). i'm actually not as keen on the pre-packaged pizza bready dough-like stuff that you can fashion into a pizza. for some reason that just doesn't trip my culinary trigger, but i am all about the joys and wonders of pizza, i remember it, value it, i just don't give in to it, for the most part.

when we went to chicago, that changed. at least during the trip to chicago.

there are a few places that serve the kind of pizza that stick, forever, in my heart and bring back memories of lovely, cheesy glory that dance upon my tongue and across my senses. mario's restaurant in westwood, california (which, i do believe, is gone) was one of those, along with barones, jacopo's (which my brother informed me was closed down not that long ago -- the one we grew up with on the corner of beverly drive and little santa monica in beverly hills... i cried a little over that), valentino restaurant in venice, california (a fine dining italian spot that became a fave of ours as kids and whose pizza always makes me smile), harpo's in manhattan beach (this is a place that existed for a blip in time, but had been opened by two guys from chicago, so it was chicago style pizza with this really lovely cornmeal infused crust and delicious toppings... fillings... whatever -- one of the guys also owned the manhattan beach health club for men at which i was the morning receptionist and from where i was summarily fired one late winter day, but that's a whole other story), ray's pizza in new york (and don't ask me which one, cuz they're on every freakin' street corner), this killer place my sister-in-law and, when he wasn't working, brother would invade during a stint in queensland, australia -- i would get their seafood pizza that had clams and squid on it. trust me, it was amazing just as the fresh out of the fryer and dusted with cinnamon sugar donuts we would get at this little shop in sanctuary cove, where my bro and sis-in-law and beloved jordman were living at the time (this is all pre-rachel, although rachel was certainly making a statement in my sister-in-law's ever expanding belly). kathy moriarty's place in beverly hills -- i think it's called bronx pizza where you can buy slices and it's awesome.

i now add to this list Giordano's Pizzeria in Chicago, Illinois. O... M... G. thank you, dan, and stacey for talking it up and convincing me, yes, it is worth putting aside your pizza phobia and diving in.

brandon, as you know, could live on pizza alone and be very happy. perhaps not healthy, but happy. he is well aware of chicago style pizza. we have eaten it not only here in the midwest, but also in los angeles. when he learned we would be taking a trip there, he made a point of telling me he wanted to eat pizza there and i promised him i would eat it with him (mentally shaking in my boots the whole time). and, so, i pile nicholas -- whose elementary school graduation we were celebrating with this trip -- and brandon into the tiny, gas efficient rented car, way too many distractions to really fit in this car, and make the trek to the outskirts of the windy city, Schaumberg. this is where medieval times resides, it is the attraction we were focused on for nicholas' sake -- he's a romantic, knights in shining armor kinda guy -- with every intention of making our way into the city for a day of adventure and pizza.

i won't bore you about the drive from schaumberg into chicago, because it will bore and not surprise you. fluffin' crazy, let's just say. but let me share our giordano experience, shall i?

we arrive at the pizzeria amidst a tornado warning. yep. we get there at a time pre-rush hour, which makes life VERY comfortable. we sit and look at the selections, feel the vibe of this serious chicago tradition and relax into it. after conferring with my pal, stacey, before we left for chicago, i pass along information to both nicholas and brandon that i hope will make our lives easier -- the pizza at this place is dense, full of yum and deceiving. do not buy more than you can chew. normally, curbing my sons' portions would send them into a semi-tizzy. however, as they watch the pizza go by our table and because they both adore and trust stacey, they believe me. so, we order two small, "individual" pizzas for our table -- brandon gets one with cheese, pepperoni and onions; i order one with cheese, shrimp and spinach for me and nicholas. we also get a chicken caesar salad for us all to share and nicholas orders lasagna.

the pizza came and we just sort of looked at it for a moment. no way was i gonna be able to make it through one piece, let alone the whole thing. brandon realizes the same thing, but he doesn't want to tell ME that. he grabs a slice or a deep, luscious, decadent piece, takes one fork filled bite -- yep, my son realized no way was he gonna be able to eat this just with his hands -- and stares at me. oh, man. he's in heaven. then i do the same and, truly, i was transported. this is what pizza should be -- delicious, cheesy without being TOO cheesy, saucy, tangy spicy and hot. the crust was firm, soft, crispy all at once, lovely flavor and the shrimp/spinach combo was a hit. i ate a half a piece, nicholas ate the other half then we sat back and looked at the two pizzas, realizing that the one piece each we took out of them made barely a dent and we have plenty of leftovers to take on our trip back and still have some at home. we are in heaven.

oh, i paid for it later. trust me. my stomach did back flips, forward tumbles and called the fire department. but it didn't matter. Giordano's made our day and we still talk about it. as i said, this was not our first foray into chicago style pizza. there's a place here in town that the kids like quite a bit and i'm sure it's lovely. but it's not giordano's and no amount of big eyed begging from my delightful children will get me to put the dreaded demon pizza into my mouth.

but invite me to giordano's again and i am so all about it. i'd even order my very own.