Come Pick Me Up, Come Take Me Out

Supporting local businesses!  Yeah, that's the ticket to indulging in take-out lunch specials on days when you could cook but you just can't bring yourself to do it.  You want to eat healthy, but you also want some indulgence.  You planned to plan ahead but you waited too long and now your stomach is making the choices.  If you cohabitate, this is a very familiar place to be.  One hopes the other will 'figure out the meal', so you wait it out and both come up with zeroes.  Grouchy and famished, decision-making can then turn dark.

This is the perfect time to surrender, admit you have no power and order out.  Of course you can still make semi-appropriate choices, like these vegetable heavy bowls (mine had glass noodles underneath, which are heavenly in their light sauce) from Yori Bowl.  Sure, I was weaker and chose the Korean fried chicken chunks in a delicious sauce while P went for the Spicy Pork.  I try not to have food regret, which is a delicate balance, because I also try not to get heavy in weight, as my short frame can't handle much extra stomach bulge or else I begin to feel constricted and lethargic.  

If your biggest problem is that you can't figure out what to eat for lunch, you must remind yourself that life is still pretty effing great.  

Don't Forget What You Are, You're a Rock and Roll Star

New York City is still a very magical place, no matter how many corporate slugs try to gentrify the life out of it. No matter how many rich brats flood the sidewalks in their joyless attire.  The Washington Square diner smack in the middle of the Village, a great example of stepping onto a movie set.  Sitting with a friend, in an old worn booth, waited on by man servants, what could be any better?

But it does get better, its as if the city unravels around you when you meet it in the right space.  Diner food. Crisp salted fries, too many to eat but you do your best.  A burger made on a grill or a club, cool, just-rightly -sweetened coleslaw and tons of tiny pickles. A father and daughter sitting across having a life alterning conversation about wanting to stay in New York, when the parent clearly sees nothing redeemable about the place.  There is nothing better than a lunch date in a New York City diner.

And the perfect accompaniment to a matinee with your Bestie.  Time is concentrated with people you adore and you must work not to waste one moment.  This is why we live here, all the good feels chocked full like chocolate chips in a fat cookie can be had.  From taking the subway, to anxiously waiting at the meeting spot, to the slow build-up of light conversation to deep, creative ideas whilst walking through the busy streets but not alone, together, with a great buddy, someone you want to hear from, a treasured friend, a New York City friend, the best kind.

And then a very unexpectedly insightful documentary about someone you should have heard about before but it was better viewing that you didn't.

These times, like savored bites of the best food, are reminders that this is not just any city we live in but a rich treasure trove of wonderment, an alter to the creative gods, a place to pay your respects and feed from its richness.  

But If Memories Were All I Sang, I'd Rather Drive a Truck

For Juneteenth, I brought my lunch to work.  I'm trying a new stir fry 'no meat' beef.  I added tomatoes and spinach.  The texture is amazing and as long as you don't look at it with your glasses on in the light, it works.  My workplace offered a special menu as a celebration of fried chicken, mac and cheese, sweet potatoes, chocolate cake and......watermelon slices.  (queue dramatic orchestral music).  

I read yesterday in the New York Post that there was much dismay in one particular store, with coworkers very upset, threatening to quit and a bunch of walkouts.  I asked our head cook if he heard any similar issues at our location.  He was surprised to hear it and said to me, But you have to understand, This is the food that our people like to eat, so I'm not sure what the problem would be. He looked at me, puzzled and I could tell his feelings were slightly hurt because he cares about the food he serves.  I said, I thinks it's the watermelon because of it's particular connection to the slaves. Some staff found it offensive.  He's black, about my age and when I'm not complimenting his food, we joke at our lockers about how weird the world is getting.  People our age tend to be taken off guard at how huge problems get so quickly. We shake our heads and end a lot of quick talks with, it's crazy out there, be safe, be well.      

The rest of the day I grilled coworkers for their thoughts.  It became, as always such an enlightened Brooklyn take on the subject, meaning, the opposite.  My Chinese coworker right away remarked that for Pan Asian heritage, they simply put a slide on the screen with useless trivia and threw all the Asians together in one week with No food, no celebration!  She went on to say, How hard it is to make some rice or some fuckin shits!?  Her voice is elevating now saying, I don't need to fucking know how many people live in Korea yo, just give me some fucking food!  Yo! but I'll take the time and a half, thank you very much!  Make it a paid holiday like Juneteenth.   

This throws me off a bit, so now I digress remembering, for Latin Heritage month, we barely had anything either.  No screen slide even, just the weirdest taco made with asian spiced meat, broccoli and fake cheese sauce. That's it, no salsa or beans.  And I remember that taco bar was shameful and laughed thinking, I was glad my parents weren't alive to see it.  But even worse, the majority of Latinos working there are Puerto Rican, Cuban and Dominican, so bad tacos were further off the mark.  It feels silly to complain or have deep thoughts on what my store decides to serve in the staff cafeteria for these holidays.  And of course they fuck it up, we fuck everything up in that store from soup to nuts.

On the other hand, the Mexicans and Central Americans, as well as the Chinese sort of kept this city going foodwise during the pandemic, running the restaurants, produce markets, grocery stores and delivery services.  NO ONE was out there at some points except for these kind folks and at risk to their own families.  But it's ridiculous to expect the store cafeteria to take on the cities job of honoring these silent heroes.  This isn't a backhanded slight to my people, I realize, and come back to the conversation.

My coworker has more to say,  For St Patrick's Day they pulled off that amazing corned beef and cabbage spread that was slow cooked all night, yo.  Rice takes 20 minutes! she said.  The Russian girl starts talking and we all go internal because we can think of no example of Russian food period.  Then, in a simultaneous eruption of fervor, we all made note of the no holds barred, extraordinary celebration of Gay Pride going on as we speak.  We not only have banners, we raised a flag outside with a ceremony, we have table graphics and giant rainbows hanging from our ceiling.  There is a big screen with a tutorial explaining ALL the sexual orientations and a game at the end to make sure they really drilled in all the ways you're to behave and talk around these individuals as if they are suddenly another species entirely, further separating them as far as I see it.  They made actual flags, hundreds, each color represented. Plus, there is a photo booth complete with hats, boas, funny glasses to take photos.  We replace our store bags with rainbow bags.  This will be up for the entire month of June!  As a side note, I found it interesting that even though we have a huge population of LGBTQ+ in the store, no one participated in the photo booth and when I have witnessed folks taking a flag, they pick it up like they're taking holy communion at church all quietly walking back to their seats for some odd reason.  And when is the too colorful, boa wearing flamboyant gay guy portrayal going to be offensive? Any minute.  

So, everyone so far, had more of a 'where is my celebration' angle rather than reacting to the menu faupaux, which is the refreshing thing about Brooklyn, bad or good.  With only a few people, the conversation will quickly grow very lively, loud and boisterous and never stay on point.  I asked the Afro Rican and he was ready with his somber take, It was Horrible!  What an incredible fail for the company.  He was visibly ruffled, which was expected for this person who is a gossip monger, a bully and is very rude to ethnicities that he does not prefer.   I've witnessed this hundreds of times through the years, so it's a little hard for me to be there for his level of righteousness on this subject. He tells us, this has gotten very serious, the president of the company had to made a statement about it and went on to inform us that several people would not eat that day at our store and were very upset.  I asked, Was it....the watermelon, specifically?  Wondering if possibly it was the entire menu.  He went on to tell me the story I had just read verbatim on Google about how owners fed watermelon to their slaves.   

This ends the conversation and we all disperse.   On an issue so sensitive, it does me no good to doubt his sincerity or to notice how some individuals seem to relish in finding new ways to feed their victimized story these days. 

Moe's Bar, a famous local black owned establishment where a white artist paints the black artist themed mural.  

I have to laugh at the irony of it, not for any reason other than because this poor company has gone ALL IN on each and every issue of social integrity.  At this point, we're floating in graphics, posters, banners, takeaways, videos, overhead announcements, walls of information on global warming, racial equality, gender relations, community outreach, diversity, recycling, exercise importance, diet awareness, we have a green roof, an oyster farm on site, a foodbank, they made a waterway park, we're working to be a 100% sustainable, and we have tons of programs to promote mental health.  

Somehow, an amazing summer treat got thrown in a menu by it's own staff and now after the New York Post article, the higher ups at this same company might as well be wearing black face.  The local NAACP is now looking for more acceptable apologies and answers.  And it was a mistake.  That's why it's so funny.  Another reason it could be more funny is that black staff were most likely in on the decision making, we're hearing both sides internally.  The reason it's not funny is that some people truly were offended and hurt.  Our store basically served the exact same thing and most definitely included many black staff.  I'm just saying, it was a mistake.  And hey guess what, we're all dumbbells, as Don Rickles used to say.  This doesn't have to turn into a deliberate racist action ESPECIALLY from a company with such a track record of I would say almost overdoing it on the correctness.  

An unpopular theory of mine is all of this honoring of specific groups started from a good place and was needed, but now perhaps it only serves to keep us centered on all our differences and ways in which we've been mistreated in the past, to continue identifying ourselves by it, which is not where we want to be.

Also, let's face it, one retailer can never please everyone and as we continue to correct more and more questionable stereotypes, it's only going to get much worse.  Soon every single characterization of a group for a celebration will most definitely offend multiple people. That is very clear to forecast and for that reason, I think businesses should stay out of politics altogether.  Or only delve in issues that directly relate to the business, like being green and sustainable.  

I'll Be Here in the Morning, I'll be Here For Awhile

Um, yeah! Sheet Pan-demic breakfast!  Cabbage, potato, red pepper, onion and chicken sausage were tossed in a bowl with balsamic vinegar and oil, salt and pepper, laid on a sheet pan and baked.  A fried egg on top seals the deal! Simple and better than expected.  The side bonus of a full sheet pan of roasted vegetables is it makes a nice little lunch box meal for the next day as well, or a second breakfast the next day, just add an egg.  

Monday, Monday, Can't Trust That Day

I haven't worked a Monday through Friday shift in over 20 years.  Recently I volunteered to do the job of a pregnant woman while she went on leave to pop one out.  It's only been a few weeks.  At first it was a dream, in super early and out before 5pm usually. I hadn't seen a weekend in a few month of Sundays and for that matter two consecutive days off.  I was thrilled and then it became a little tough, the long stretch in between days off.  Biking five days straight, doing yoga and then creating dinner.  That's what they mean by the grind I suppose.  How you really begin looking forward to Friday as if Monday is something of the past.  And then today, the true sense of Monday finally hit me like a ton of bricks.  When everyone always made mention of the Monday blues I would just shrug.  If no week is consistent, then there is no day to fret.  But dang, it's evil. I felt as if I was carrying the weight of the world on my back. I couldn't quit yawning, and gravity was pulling me down to my knees.  I mentally deep stabbed every customer that dared interrupt me at work with can you help me????? Those dreaded words.  My whole job is to help them but it's godawful in that way and for that reason.  All my patience was drained. What the heck is so important they couldn't wait until Tuesday for this shit?!  I'm usually a slightly better person than this.  Maybe I'm incapable.

But how could this feel so drastic and then you wake up hoping its gone away and it does but just enough to make it Tuesday.  Maybe that's a gift to get you back in that stupid game. Or the curse.  I don't believe in this.  Who am I but I have to say I'm convinced after just a short time that we absolutely can do much better than this.  Monday through Friday is a lie!

 Monday Bunless Burgers Two-Ways.  Bleu Cheese Bacon and Shiitake Mushroom White Cheddar Turkey burgers over Shiitake black rice.

You'll Always Find Me, Out to Lunch

Having craved real white pasta for months I tamed the beast inside again by making roasted spaghetti squash and this time I bought the right one.  I loved it so much I had it for dinner and lunch twice.

It's actually just as good with a nice marinara sauce as it is with this robust meat mushroom sauce.

I took it to work, microwaved it and sat down with it on my tray. The sweet smell of the squash and garlic, the tangy tomato sauce, it was all so good especially in that setting when you're just expecting prison food.  Again, why don't I do this more often?  I tell ya, I fail to learn in life. Or I do learn but then I forget really quickly.  This may be the reason I struggle to advance in my individual life progress.  This could be a new condition.  Failure to progress disorder.

It seems so simple.  You have an idea of what you need to change.  In this case, I'd like to bring my lunch to work.  I do it a couple of times and then fail to do it for like a year.  Then I wonder, what went wrong. Lack of effort?  Sure.  But I forget a lot too.  Why yesterday I had it in containers and there it sat in my fridge.  I never remembered it until just now.  It'd be fine if it were just one to two quirks but I have a huge list of failed, not even attempts, more failed lack of attempts.

Are all these things not priorities to me?  And if so, what do I spend my time remembering?  Seems I'm pretty vacant up there before going to work.  I can't recall thinking anything in particular.   So am I just this goofy girl that can't focus?  Perhaps.  But it's never that simple because I am an over thinker so it doesn't make sense that I'm insufficiently thriving.  Maybe I don't make good solid plans.  I make a lot of lists I know that.  And usually I mark them off one by one..eventually.  Maybe I don't care enough?  Could be.
But if I had to make a real evaluation right now I would say I tend to live inside my head way too much.  Maybe more than the actual physical world.  It's more interesting there sometimes.  And all my friends are there!  That's a joke...kind of.  And there, there is no time or space, no old or young me, no progressing or not, it's not the past or the future. Frankly, it's just all cool up there.  You don't have to worry about your clothes and down here my hair is not acting right at ALL.  Summer frizz is no joke.
But I gotta figure out how to get my lunch to work, bottom line.

I Love You More Today, Than Yesterday

Black bean and corn chicken salad topped with my raw tomatillo salsa.  This was my first attempt at a fun chicken salad during my chicken salad week extravaganza prompted by my El Toro Chicken salad take out meal.  I ordered a salad and liked it but then challenged myself to see if I could make a more exciting one.

I think I beat them on the chicken flavor and texture.  We both used black beans.  They had those cool pickled red onions and I just had fresh raw.  I added corn, they didn't.  I served over arugula, they had chunks of romaine.  I added baked pea chips for crunch.  I omitted the sour cream.

The dressing was key as it provided a tangy fun quality.

But all in all, I didn't knock anything out of the park, so I'm gonna say this salad was tied with their salad.

You Don't Own Me

Before heading into the abyss work, I dreamed all morning of making these wraps. I took my leftover chicken tenders, sliced with fresh baby spinach, tomatoes and topped with Ranch dressing wrapped in a warmed white flour tortilla. 

Yes. Yes. And Yes!  I love warm food mixed with cool toppings!

I love to work but I deeply resent any company that takes more than they give and I am currently not happy with my work situation. (understatement). Life might suck for the next 8 hours of my day but for 20 minutes, eating these delicious wraps snatching a few minutes of the Wendy Williams show's Hot Topics, everything was right.

Don't Need a Gun to Blow Your Mind

I tell ya I got this scrambled egg thing down!  I know you're thinking, anyone can make scrambled eggs yo.  Yeah, but I could never get them cream dreamy or delicate tasting and I finally got it.  The right heat, the right time to add them to the other ingredients, just a dash of milk. 

These had sautéed zucchini, red onion and baby spinach. 

I'm obviously easily impressed but I also made a kick ass low-cal homemade mac and cheese with ham and peas.  I made the roux with flour and butter, added a 1/4 cup milk and a cup of chicken stock until it thickened and got really hot. Then I added the cheese, about 4 ounces of Monterey Jack until melted, then I immediately mixed it in with the pasta.

Instead of parmesan on top I added seasoned bread crumbs.  During the week it's all about the simple victories. Don't try to overreach.

We All Need Something We Can Dream On

This Saturday we took a long walk through a different neighborhood in Brooklyn, part Prospect Heights, part Fort Greene. It's always astonishing to see the impressive architecture and the different periods, all on the same block sometimes mixed up.

Brooklyn is like a living museum and it still takes my breath away. I feel like its such a privilege to walk around for free and just take it in.

Other times I just wanna get the hell out of here and be next to family, like my sister R. I dream about hanging out and having lunches, making food together, exploring small towns and maybe even one day starting a restaurant or some type of food offering.

P also dreams on living near his brother, Big Ed actually, the pepper king. Being in Brooklyn or New York in general, you have all this wonderfulness here all around you. But without family to share it with, it can feel a little lonely sometimes. Friends are amazing but even our close friends have family here.

I found this tree and it was unreal, skin like an elephant and all these hidden faces. But I could only send a picture.

These old buildings have seen so many wanderers come through and stay awhile, only to leave and settle other places. The stories they could probably tell.

We walked and walked until our knees were tired and then we hoofed it to the corner diner where I enjoyed a beef bacon cheddar burger deluxe and P got the turkey club with fries.

Its always great to have something to look forward to, possibilities down the road. Dreams change along the way. Right now even though we enjoy Brooklyn so much, its so exciting to imagine having a true best friend within shouting distance.

Knowing Me, Knowing You

Another great brunch at the Smoke Joint! I got the beef brisket sandwich again. My reasoning being the chicken and pulled pork is great but I eat tons of those meats weekly but when do I get brisket? Decision made. Case closed. Plus the fat on brisket is truly one of life's greatest treasures. They will serve it as a snack in my heaven.

We went with the seasoned fries, Bed Stuy potato salad and baked beans again - all super good sides, no surprises there. J had some pepper-infused tequila bloody Maria that took everything for me not to grab and suck down for some sweet mental and emotional relief. But no, not drinking, not gonna do it. Thank you, I'll have the iced tea please. sigh.

I was weak that morning. I didn't want to miss brunch with J but P had me out on a bike ride that morning and I was under the weather. The hill in Prospect Park almost did me in, plus there was a cancer walk that in my opinion was poorly planned because it became an obstacle course of bikers, joggers, kids and cancer walkers. What should have been a nice day in the park turned into a cursing sweaty hateful resent-fest. If you're a biker, you resent the walkers and the joggers. They are in your way. It's simple. Get out of my way. If you were walking, you probably felt it was your day and the park should have been closed off to bikers and joggers. If you're jogging well sorry but to me, you're from another planet anyway, so you don't count. What normal human could take running up those hills?!

If Lovin' Goo is Wrong, I Don't Wanna Be Right

Simple all-American dishes are sometimes the hardest for me to, I was going to say master but I'm just trying to get it right. Like a really well done hamburger or fried chicken or say, the grilled cheese for example. It has to match the taste you have in your head, the memory 'right' taste. Although I will say there are so many great variations now that kind of surpass the simple diner grilled cheese. But which do most prefer?

Maybe its like covering a song. You either do it just as the original so that all the memory sensations register correct and its satisfying or you do your own stunning version and blow everyone away.

I used to love going to the Evergreen Diner in Times Square for lunch. They made a very respectable grilled cheese with tomato and bacon. White bread, crispy bacon and a thin sliced tomato with Velveeta-like cheese and I would imagine tons of butter on the grill. This deluxe plate came with a side of fries, a pickle and that little paper cup of coleslaw - damn near perfect f'you ask me. You can get away with that in a diner because no one has to 'see' what really goes on in with that dish in that kitchen. But the kitchen mysteries are no longer important once you bite down on that crisp buttery gooey toasted cheese and then have the pop of the sweet tomato burst in your mouth before the salty crisp bacon comes in to give you that meat satisfaction that only bacon can!

When you make one yourself, you have to be reasonable though. I mean I wanna make a good sandwich but I'm not trying to kill anyone. I made this one with wheat bread, real mild cheddar cheese, vine ripe tomatoes and turkey bacon.

I actually didn't taste it, I made it for P so he'd have something more than beer in his belly to record. But I could tell just by looking at it that it wasn't there yet. The cheese was not melty-cream-dreamy enough. I needed to use lower heat. I guess you have to get enough butter on that bread so that it feels kinda soaked too. Also, you should butter the bread inside as well. I did a light olive oil butter mix only in the pan.

In my opinion I accomplished neither the correct memory version nor an astounding adaptation. But its hard to really say without tasting it. That would be like looking an at album cover and deciding you hate the band without even listening to a track, which I do all the time by the way. P said he rated it superb. Go figure.

Sub-standard

I'm not sure why but I get sick a lot. Not big things, just colds and flu bugs. Once the fall hits, and the sun goes away I feel more vulnerable. I think its because I was the runt of the litter. I was the last of 6 kids. I mean, the last bowl of soup from the pot admittedly is not the best. It just makes sense that maybe I was missing some essential parts or little pieces...brains, common sense, etc. I'm very strong and I think I'm pretty healthy now but I'm nothing against some of these giant NY sized multi-cultural viruses. I go down for a couple of days and then I'm fine. But it does throw off my entire week, so it kinda sucks.

For example, I had a huge weekend planned with snacks galore to celebrate our 20th anniversary on Halloween. It felt silly to go out to eat somewhere when what we really enjoy is a variety of fun appetizers and each others company. But sometimes things don't go as planned. I went down hard on my day off and didn't get to the market at all.

So tomorrow we'll play it by ear and today we made due with a nice picnic on our sunny living room floor featuring hot toasted submarines from City Subs, Brooklyn's best sub shop. Two guys, a couple of toaster ovens and fast hands. The bread is really good and they use freshly sliced meats. I'm not exactly sure why they taste as good as they do though, because they're kind of exceptional. There is something about a perfectly put together sandwich, that seems only a man can make. Of course that's ridiculous, but its just been true in my world. These guys don't have music blasting (but I think they should), and there isn't a lot of banter between them, just specific questions determining what is going in and on your little bundle. Its all pretty serious, like they're operating. They wrap it up with the same precision and you are confident its everything you dreamed it to be. And it is.

What a special treat! I miss cooking already and I'm hoping tomorrow I'll get to come home from work and whip up some food festivities of my own. I'm learning to go with the flow. I can't control what the future brings but I'm trying to make sure we enjoy it at least. When the future brings a cold, I try to pass it to P like a hot potato. Thank goodness we have plenty of amazing cheap food spots to take up the slack.