Don't Need a Watch to Waste Your Time, Oh No, Oh No

A million years ago when I lived back in Fort Wayne, Indiana my oldest sister M still lived at home and she was the one who brought culture and style into the house.  M was worldly and adventurous. She read big thick books and kept up with fashion.  She went on weird diets and wore false eyelashes and mini skirts.  She hung her stockings in the bathroom like in the movies.  Her best friend looked like a man and her male friends were very feminine.  I thought she was 'it'.  I've written about this before but it makes me feel good to recall these memories.

It was a big deal when M made this recipe she called Goop for the family.  She was decades ahead of Taco Bell. She put ground meat, lettuce, tomatoes, onion, shredded cheese, kidney beans and then Frito chips mixed in and it became a big salad meal.  Well let me tell you what. In 1970-something that was very out of this world unconventional.  Just mixing in the Frito's like that!?  She blew my mind with that one and it was so good with the warm and cold mixed together, the crunch of the chips and the shredded cheese.  You didn't even have fresh cilantro readily available at that time so I doubt she was able to put a fresh herb in the mix.  However, the tomatoes back then were like fresh herbs in that they had so much vibrant flavor and smell. 

This would have been an updated version of that dish to include corn, fresh herbs, red bell pepper and jalapeno.  Halfway through though I forgot I had no iceberg lettuce and wasn't willing to go fetch a bag of Fritos, so instead, I served it over white Jasmine rice and scooped it with wheat flour tortillas.

But next time I will make the real Goop and get my fix.  Old people talk about a simpler time and I used to  think inside, 'gosh how pathetic is this melancholy for the past'.  Uh, well, I guess I might have been hit with the same bug lately.  I too recall a less complicated time when I was young and had family around.  The house was always full and alive. The family restaurant didn't exist yet and food was such a pleasurable part of our world.  I think summer, my mom's homemade tortillas, her flour-dusty apron and the portion of the Formica countertop that she rolled those tortillas out on.  I think crickets and lightning bugs, the back yard which at the time was enormous.  I think mulberry bushes and play fishing in the creek out back. Running constantly and laying in the patch of super thick grass that grew on our hill that felt like a giant green mattress in the cool shade.   I think of picking rhubarbs and having a little snack while sitting on the little rose trellis that my dad built. Helping my mom make potato salad and making fun of my dad for bringing home the wrong mayonnaise, again! 
M was already an adult and she was doing bigger and better things.  She could have been anything I believe.
But mom and dad were the cooks and it had never even occurred to me that us kids would ever attempt to prepare a meal.  The fact that Mary came into that kitchen that day with all her ingredients and made this for us was a right of passage. Maybe it was symbolic for me and she really cooked all the time, but this is one of the only things I remember her creating.  I'm not sure how it all came to be but Mary put aside some of her plans and joined forces with the folks to create, manage and run the restaurant a few short years following these happier times.  

We Will, We Will Rock You!

The best thing about posole is that is just keeps getting better and better and better!  You finish it before it hits it's peak.

That broth hits some sort of crescendo of flavor with the heat, the chiles, the Mexican oregano, the lemon juice, and then the crunch of those sweet cool onions.  The cilantro hits your nostrils first and then your pallet mixing with what would normally be an overload of flavors but no, this time they all just go perfectly together like a batch of crazy cult followers in a Texas barn. 

Take These Broken Wings and Learn to Fly

Not everything works! Oh no, by no means and I am certainly big enough to admit my failures...foodwise that is.

Chimichurri over pasta with spinach although looking very green and delicious is a little too tart and possibly too light, not tough enough to be a real sauce for pasta perhaps.  But it wasn't bad, I ended up adding roasted salted sunflower seeds, Parmesan, pepper flakes and I had a good lunch of it.  But will I do it again?  No.  Actually, strike that...maybe as a cold salad!  No, still no.

It's all good though when you know for dinner you can whip up a heated bowl of leftover pork posole with all the added condiments!

You have regained your credibility in the house.

I'm In Love and It's a Sunny Day

We had a really good shrimp appetizer in the most delicious light batter from a street vendor during the festival in Fort Greene this Memorial day weekend. Unfortunately they had some pretty poopy weather for part of the three day fest. Usually you get to see so many striking and colorful outfits from Africa and the Caribbean.  I like to take pictures like the geek that I am.

We took a look see early this Monday morning before most people were out. Most vendors were just setting up still at around 12noon. 

We made the mistake of being super hungry just starting out and that can be hard, not to mention very expensive to buy from vendors in piece meal like that.  The shrimp was great but like $8!  It was good though and you seldom get shrimp cooked to perfection like that, and the batter so light.  I wish I would have gotten the name of that truck.

It's also rough to go for the full on Jerk Chicken meal at noon before your tastebuds are fully awake.  And then what do you do, eat it at the pee-smellin' curb, spilling your rice all over with the wind blowing your hair in your face while sweating in the sun?  That's not comfortable for me.  I need to sit and enjoy with a beverage.

After walking a bit more and realizing nothing was happening this early and we are clearly on a different internal clock than the rest of the festival goers as we'd been up for hours and hours....

and taking good pictures is too obvious and possibly annoying to some when you're right out there where they can spot you - seemed kinda wrong and invasive....

So, we hiked it back to Academy Diner where they would have good unsweetened ice tea, coffee and the best grilled burgers and fries.  We could sit down, chat and enjoy each others company and conversation.  One of the best advantages of a good diner is just the relaxed comfortable atmosphere to do that.  Great day!

Good Day Sunshine!

I talk a lot about lethargy and depression, melancholy days and even phobias about leaving the house.  Sometimes though, I actually rise early and get right to things.  Less often unfortunately than I'd like to admit but it does still occur.

Today I started off making a nice chili powder blend as a gift for my dad on Father's Day.  Instead of an ass mangler, I just made a nice mild sweet powder with ancho chiles and some jalapenos, spices. 

Got it all ready to go, even tied a little bow on it. 

I'll never send it.  No, as a matter of fact I'm staring at it right now almost two weeks later.  I've even used some of it.  You see I have another disorder where I can't seem to pick up phones or mail things, letters or cards - especially gifts.  I know these blocks exist and I haven't exactly accepted them per say, let's just say, maybe I'm not so surprised to see the gift still here.  I'm a work in progess,  Can I get an amen?!

I doctored up some Campbell's chicken noodle soup with greens and a little left over egg tart.  Very good actually with some pepper flakes.

Then I whipped up some chimichurri but this time hand chopping the parsley and cilantro in order to enjoy the smell of the herbs and prolong the creative process.  I think there is a true art to getting the garlic, oil, herb balance just right with the vinegar not too tart.  Chimichurri is best learned from a pro.  I was only told how to make from a lady from work.  But the best schooling was that I tasted hers and it was DEEvine.  So once you know how it 'should' be, then you strive for that bingo moment at first bite. 

Later that day I did something of a flat chimichanga, in other words a fried flour tortilla sandwich with turkey kielbasa, spinach, blue cheese and...

.

...a side of warmed pineapple, and a 1/2 avocado with chimichurri dressing.

Better than expected.  Something happens when you fry flour torts that turns them into almost a pie pastry taste.  I just sauteed the pineapple in a little butter and mint.  When you can, I say do, because you never know when it's gonna come again.  Actually that's P's saying. He has a ton of them.  I follow the ebbs and tides of my emotional cycles and do the best I can with my limitations.  This was a good day though.

Wouldn't It Be Nice?

Asparugus ham and Feta stovetop egg thingy.  Woulda been so nice with a pie tart crust beneath it. 

m

Nice and fluffy just on low heat and covered.

Like a quiche but without all the cream and hassle.  I just used a drop of no fat milk to the eggs. 

Change is Gonna Do Ya Good

Whoever is running PathMark now is doing a better job, however us patrons seem to be footing the bill for all the new racking by all these hiked prices on everyday items. Less stuff seem to be on sale each week too. More pale skinned chubby men with clipboards in stiff beige pants and bad shoes spell change. Hire some extra cashiers ferchrissakes! How long does a girl gotta wait in line to give you money? And even though it's entertaining, there must be 20 guys back there in that butcher shop and every single one of them is yacking their mouth at warp speed and not working when I walk by. Top of their lungs, they're talking smack about something. I have to chime in sometimes just because you can't help it. Last week it was about gays...nature versus nurture. Who knew straight men felt so passionately about the subject. It's actually fun and all that but is that why I pay $4.99 now instead of $3.99 for the same turkey sausage in the same packaging by the same company as last month? Same goes for the cereal, coffee, peanut butter, milk, and toilet paper!? Because if it is, then shut the hell up and start chopping boys. Momma needs a new pair of Levi's and you're not that cute. However, some things make shopping better like the larger selection of fresh greens and not just the turnip and collard prices but the fresh lettuces and baby spinach. Organic spring mixes for prices I can afford and right in time for what would be spring before the devil took over the weather.

Most likely I eat way too much meat however my meat-to-vegetable or greens ratio has improved dramatically thanks to hiked meat prices and better produce. One link of turkey sausage with sauteed grape tomatoes and a big side of salad with feta cheese and pepperoncini peppers, lemon vinaigrette was all she wrote for dinner tonight. A bit of leftover rice.

I Love You So, I Always Will

Red bell peppers are most often ridiculously high in price down at the PathMark dontchaknow. $4.99 a lb. And you notice, they're super heavy. I used to believe it was silly to pay higher. I'd just as well buy a pound of the green and get like 4. I arrived late to the red bell pepper party. I never truly appreciated them until last year when I added them to this amazing pork stew. Now I'm absolutely crazy for them. They're sweet, they have tons of flavor and they actually improve and change the taste of soups and sauces that normally house green bell pepper. Just the art of allowing them to ripen and develop that added sweetness makes all the difference. Don't get me wrong though, I still love green bell pepper and couldn't live without them in many dishes.

These simple scrambled eggs with sauteed sliced red bell peppers were the cat's meow with a smathering of my bright green roasted tomatillo sauce for added color and vavoom! I still won't pay full price but let these babies go on sale and I will be there with bells on!

No Direction Home

I had a day off after a particularly long week of extreme retail nonsense. All I wanted to do was loaf around and eat, lick my wounds and sulk. So, I have this thing about hamburger meat and my childhood. I've always loved it. Used to eat it raw for some unknown reason before I got caught. I remember grabbing little hunks out of the package before my mom slapped my hand. But not before I got my sweet reward. I can still taste it when I close my eyes, its super soft and a little fatty, no salt, just raw meat. Maybe it appealed to me because I've always felt part wolf or wild dog. Anyway, ground meat soothes me and I had some in the fridge on this day. I woke up early so hunger was working already at around 9am. I figured since I've been off the pasta for awhile, I'd do a huge plate nice and early and reward myself a bit without too much backlash from the gut. Like many women, I've made quick spaghetti so many times I do it almost without thinking. The onion, garlic gets sauteed, the meat goes in, the mushrooms, the canned tomatoes and paste, spices. I had some good olives, so I threw those in. Fast spaghetti has been with me all my life, beginning with boxes of 'the kit' from Chef Boy R Dee. The Complete Spaghetti Dinner. It came with the can of meat sauce, a can of Parmesan cheese and spaghetti all in a box with directions. Since my mom and dad had to work at the restaurant all day and night and I was too young to get too excited yet about my upcoming endless take-out options, my mom would leave money for 'the Chef' and a bag of Seyferts Potato Chips, a coke and maybe a few extra nickels for some penny candy for me and my sister R. I'd haul ass up to Hep's Dairy and fetch all the goodies. Later, my sister T perfected a family sauce and me and my other sister R began carrying the tradition of making that sauce regularly. T was always experimental and would put different extras in the sauce like mango to keep us on our toes. We'd visit her house through the years and it was expected we'd be treated with 'the special sauce', beers and always the best weed. T always had the best weed, as an old sister should. She'd take her time and simmer the sauce, and somehow it was always better than mine. Back then, at around 19 I would certainly have imagined that I would be working 30 some years later at a retail job. That wouldn't have been depressing at all. I'd probably ask if it had bennies and that would be bonus. That was security and the less you had to worry about finances, the more freedom you could have just living your very simple but happy and satisfying life. You could have a Cape Cod or a Dutch Colonial with detailed wood molding along your stairwells. Maybe even get yourself some original pieces like wall sconces from of the 40s. Dreams then would be in the form of a nice tricked out deck in your backyard and a kick ass grill. I'd marry some guy that perhaps had a good factory gig himself with bennies. That would define success at that time. Just a couple of years up the road and much of that same contentment and ease would dwindle down to nothing and suddenly I felt the need to blast out of that town like the roadrunner. Instead of being cool and just settling in, I started having all these wild dreams. Dreams of becoming famous. The word celebrity didn't even truly exist yet. MTV was brand new but us restless youth out in the Midwest were just getting a taste of 'what could be'. I was taking my guitar lessons. I knew I wanted to play lead in a band along the likes of Led Zeppelin. No big stretch. My expectations were reasonable, I thought. Up that road, that life I had been standing in line to begin was feeling like a lie. That town was feeling like it was run by accountants in bad shoes and people that didn't want to hear any new ideas. I was feeling like these new dreams were starting to sound very reachable. All you gotta do is just head out to California and things happen. Madonna was only inventing her first self out in New York, not yet a reality. But in a way, it was as if all of us goofball dreamers were in a trance, heading to the 80's in a bad hair crusade to ultimate stupidity. Everything was wrong with the vision but all I knew is that it was better than where I was headed. Dreams can be dead wrong. Dreams can be misguided, off-target, faulty. Every award show someone says to 'always follow your dreams, don't ever give up, blah blah. Well I'm here to proclaim, 'welllllll.... maybe sometimes its okay to trash some of those 'far-fetchers'". Sure, I wish I would have become an accomplished guitarist but in reality after years of practicing, I barely had enough talent to mock others riffs and melodies. I never had it in me to make music. I wasn't a true musician. It still kills me but at least I know it. And I was just dumb enough so that if I had any real success, I'm almost positive I would be face down in the gutter from years of bad choices accompanied by enough money to allow it to be so. Maybe for most of us schleps dreams are meant to remain in constant flux. Just a road sign for anticipated miles ahead to the next possibility. We don't have to make it our final destination. It's just important to shoot for things and to keep looking ahead. I'm glad my dreams did not come true. Mostly, my dreams were pretty stupid and shallow, not thought out or murky. Like I really wanted to be a Solid Gold dancer but hated all the cornball choreography even as a kid. I just wanted to dance!


 Most of us don't know what the hell we want or need at the time we're in it anyway.
  Some of my favorite life moments are walking home from that Hep's Dairy on a muggy summer day mesmerized by the water running down the side of the road and the shiny rocks beneath, completely fulfilled just being me and having everything and nothing specific to look forward to. That's what I shoot for now, live in the moment like children do naturally and allow contentment in when it comes. After that great pasta breakfast, for dinner I made a big dinner salad with baby spinach, onions, avocado, feta, sunflower seeds, cucumber, the works and some of that Creamy Tomatillo Ranch Salad dressing. A dream meant for consumption.