I got to Gayle’s with two large paper grocery bags full of food. Gayle had gone to visit a neighbor, so the job of finding refrigerator space fell to Chuck. I don’t think he knew whether to laugh or cry, so he just groaned as he shifted things in the freezer and refrigerator. He had almost completed the task when Gayle arrived and began identifying the leftovers already taking up space.
Gayle had cooked and diced some chicken breasts and made chicken broth for use in creating quick, high protein meals. Her daughter Kathleen had turned her onto coconut milk as a healthy alternative to cow’s milk for use in certain culinary creations. Gayle had a quart of the stuff, and wanted to know if I knew what to do with it. It’s not for nothing that I’m the wing-it queen.
I had placed a half bunch of scallions and a bit of a bulb of ginger in the crisper drawer, and had arrived with most of a head of organic garlic. It was time to crank up Gayle’s soup pot for my variation on one of Rachel’s favorites, Thai coconut cream and chicken soup. I had never cooked in Gayle’s Mississippi kitchen, so this was a homecoming, of sorts, for me.
When our children were small, Gayle and I were next-door neighbors. Gayle loved to grow food, but she was never keen on cooking. Her mother and I thought it our duty to provide Gayle’s family with all manner of soup and such. Gayle’s mom would cook at home and transport her food fantasies. I’d simply take over Gayle’s kitchen.
Gayle and I dreamed of retirement with both of our families sharing a large farm house with two distinct wings with one community kitchen. We agreed that I’d do the cooking and she’d do the clean-up. Even though Gayle’s Mississippi home doesn’t have two wings, it does have two stories. I was happy as a clam laughing with Gayle as I threw things into the soup pot and she cleaned up my mess.
My presence in his kitchen was actually an improvement in Chuck’s life from the first days of my friendship with his wife. When we first met, we were so enamored of each other’s philosophies that we’d forget to cook anything until Chuck walked in from work. Chuck would take one look at me, and with a look of utter despair, walk out of the kitchen. He didn’t seem to appreciate that Gayle and I were solving the problems of the world while we weren’t solving the problem of what’s for supper.
Poor Chuck probably thought he was safe from my invasion when Richard and I moved to Tennessee. I’m back, with my traveling cooking show. I hope the foods I feed them make the pain of my rather oppressive presence worth it to him.
Scott and Buffy seem to be holding up well with me in their home. Buffy has been craving Richard’s avocado soup. I may have to make that for her, since Richard isn’t here. There’s still a spot of empty space in her refrigerator.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
My Girlfriend Gayle’s Dining Delights
Gayle can’t have peanuts, dairy, or wheat; she has also sworn off of red meat and anything with growth hormones, so cooking for her family can be quite challenging. Because she has to eat a lot of protein, I spent the day concocting dishes that would delight her and satisfy Chuck.
Whole Foods provided the ingredients and Richard emailed some of his special recipes. I now have at least a week’s worth of ingredients for preparing fine cuisine for Gayle and Chuck’s dining delight. Richard shared with me his recipes for Salmon with Peppers and Leeks and for Honey Roasted Root Vegetables. Oh, how I missed Richard when faced with all that peeling, paring, slicing, and dicing!
I ended up with over a gallon of sliced fennel, yellow bell pepper, leeks, green chili peppers, and ginger. Not only did we have enough for Gayle and Chuck’s salmon, Buffy and I served it over Scott’s Asian Glazed Barbecued Chicken Thighs. And since I was making Mashed Dijon Cauliflower for Gayle, I also made some as a side dish to accompany our chicken.
The side dish for Gayle’s salmon was Mashed Butternut Squash with Orange Zest. She can serve her cauliflower with anything she desires; I made it to see if there may be some way to get Chuck to enjoy this cruciferous creation. For a bit of extra ant-oxidants in their diets, I baked and acorn squash and covered it with a sauce containing a healthy dose of tart cherries.
Richard’s recipe for Honey Roasted Root Vegetables calls for sweet potatoes, but all nightshade vegetables are off Gayle’s grocery list. I substituted fresh organic beets for the potatoes for an interesting bit of sweet flavor and creative coloration. Pink tinted vegetables may not be to everyone’s taste, but Buffy sure liked the results. Scott complained that he’s never even heard of most of the vegetables I was cutting up in his kitchen.
To make sure that Gayle and Chuck stay well-fed for at least a week, I prepared Italian Chicken Sausage with Roasted Red and Yellow Peppers to be served over rice-based pasta (I know Chuck can manage to boil his own pasta.), and I stuffed some portabella mushrooms with a savory stuffing containing rice-based Italian breadcrumbs. I even bought Chuck a package of wheat-free bread mix for his bread machine. Who knew there were so many rice-based varieties of ingredients outside of an Oriental grocery store?
By the time Buffy arrived home from work, I had every pot in the house full of food and every burner on the stove going full blast. Bless Buffy’s heart, she complimented me on all the delicious smells emanating from her kitchen, and began to wash pots as I finished with them. I couldn’t imagine a better daughter-in-law. If she was Yiddish, she’d be called a real mensch.
Whole Foods provided the ingredients and Richard emailed some of his special recipes. I now have at least a week’s worth of ingredients for preparing fine cuisine for Gayle and Chuck’s dining delight. Richard shared with me his recipes for Salmon with Peppers and Leeks and for Honey Roasted Root Vegetables. Oh, how I missed Richard when faced with all that peeling, paring, slicing, and dicing!
I ended up with over a gallon of sliced fennel, yellow bell pepper, leeks, green chili peppers, and ginger. Not only did we have enough for Gayle and Chuck’s salmon, Buffy and I served it over Scott’s Asian Glazed Barbecued Chicken Thighs. And since I was making Mashed Dijon Cauliflower for Gayle, I also made some as a side dish to accompany our chicken.
The side dish for Gayle’s salmon was Mashed Butternut Squash with Orange Zest. She can serve her cauliflower with anything she desires; I made it to see if there may be some way to get Chuck to enjoy this cruciferous creation. For a bit of extra ant-oxidants in their diets, I baked and acorn squash and covered it with a sauce containing a healthy dose of tart cherries.
Richard’s recipe for Honey Roasted Root Vegetables calls for sweet potatoes, but all nightshade vegetables are off Gayle’s grocery list. I substituted fresh organic beets for the potatoes for an interesting bit of sweet flavor and creative coloration. Pink tinted vegetables may not be to everyone’s taste, but Buffy sure liked the results. Scott complained that he’s never even heard of most of the vegetables I was cutting up in his kitchen.
To make sure that Gayle and Chuck stay well-fed for at least a week, I prepared Italian Chicken Sausage with Roasted Red and Yellow Peppers to be served over rice-based pasta (I know Chuck can manage to boil his own pasta.), and I stuffed some portabella mushrooms with a savory stuffing containing rice-based Italian breadcrumbs. I even bought Chuck a package of wheat-free bread mix for his bread machine. Who knew there were so many rice-based varieties of ingredients outside of an Oriental grocery store?
By the time Buffy arrived home from work, I had every pot in the house full of food and every burner on the stove going full blast. Bless Buffy’s heart, she complimented me on all the delicious smells emanating from her kitchen, and began to wash pots as I finished with them. I couldn’t imagine a better daughter-in-law. If she was Yiddish, she’d be called a real mensch.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Supper at Sam’s
The melting pots of port cities are always more vibrantly diverse than their inland neighbors. In New Orleans, you can find anything from anywhere in the world, including any ethnic cuisine you may crave. From Appalachia to Zimbabwe, you can find their foods here. Uptown Magazine Street contains most of these cuisines.
If you really want to experience New Orleans, you must spend some time on the uptown side. Anything below Canal Street is on the "Uptown" side; above Canal Street is the "downtown" side. Magazine Street (which becomes Decatur Street on the downtown side) is maybe the funkiest corridor in the south, teaming with antique shops, specialty boutiques, uncountable restaurants, and a very eclectic variety of art galleries. Because New Orleans is so flat, all of these destinations can be reached on your own two feet.
For those who aren't up to walking the full six miles from Canal Street to the Audubon Zoo, there's always the historic St. Charles Avenue Streetcar five blocks toward the lake. You will never go north, south, east or west in New Orleans; you will go toward the river or toward the lake, toward uptown or toward downtown.
The St. Charles Avenue Streetcar travels only on the uptown side of New Orleans. At Canal Street, St. Charles Avenue changes identity and becomes Royal Street in the French Quarter. The line of demarcation is the center of the "neutral ground" (known as a median in less colorful cultures)running down the middle of Canal Street. All New Orleanians know that anything goes on the French Quarter side, but you'd better button up when going uptown.
To further guide you, should you want to venture forth in the Crescent City, the St. Charles Avenue Streetcar can drop you off in the warehouse district where contemporary art abounds, the Garden District where green space is gorgeous, and the University area, where New Orleans' version of the Ivy League lives.
I was driving in uptown New Orleans to get organic chicken sausage for Gayle and essential oil of peppermint for Pat from the uptown location of Whole Foods. After I finished my shopping, I drove due east on the Crescent City Connection bridge to get to the home of Pat and Will on the Westbank of the Mississippi River. While I visited with Pat, New Orleans was visited by only-on-the-Gulf-Coast monsoon-style rains and gale force winds. If I had the sense God gave a goose, I’d have spent the night at Pat’s, but Sam had caught a redfish and was grilling it for me. Redfish being one of the best things I ever put in my mouth, I had to get back to Mississippi.
Three hours and a hundred miles later, I was in the Clardy’s kitchen feasting on Sweet Sam’s fresh-caught fish and Bodacious Buffy’s sensational salad. I may have had to fight my way through the rains of Ranchipur to get that to that supper, but it was definitely worth the drive.
If you really want to experience New Orleans, you must spend some time on the uptown side. Anything below Canal Street is on the "Uptown" side; above Canal Street is the "downtown" side. Magazine Street (which becomes Decatur Street on the downtown side) is maybe the funkiest corridor in the south, teaming with antique shops, specialty boutiques, uncountable restaurants, and a very eclectic variety of art galleries. Because New Orleans is so flat, all of these destinations can be reached on your own two feet.
For those who aren't up to walking the full six miles from Canal Street to the Audubon Zoo, there's always the historic St. Charles Avenue Streetcar five blocks toward the lake. You will never go north, south, east or west in New Orleans; you will go toward the river or toward the lake, toward uptown or toward downtown.
The St. Charles Avenue Streetcar travels only on the uptown side of New Orleans. At Canal Street, St. Charles Avenue changes identity and becomes Royal Street in the French Quarter. The line of demarcation is the center of the "neutral ground" (known as a median in less colorful cultures)running down the middle of Canal Street. All New Orleanians know that anything goes on the French Quarter side, but you'd better button up when going uptown.
To further guide you, should you want to venture forth in the Crescent City, the St. Charles Avenue Streetcar can drop you off in the warehouse district where contemporary art abounds, the Garden District where green space is gorgeous, and the University area, where New Orleans' version of the Ivy League lives.
I was driving in uptown New Orleans to get organic chicken sausage for Gayle and essential oil of peppermint for Pat from the uptown location of Whole Foods. After I finished my shopping, I drove due east on the Crescent City Connection bridge to get to the home of Pat and Will on the Westbank of the Mississippi River. While I visited with Pat, New Orleans was visited by only-on-the-Gulf-Coast monsoon-style rains and gale force winds. If I had the sense God gave a goose, I’d have spent the night at Pat’s, but Sam had caught a redfish and was grilling it for me. Redfish being one of the best things I ever put in my mouth, I had to get back to Mississippi.
Three hours and a hundred miles later, I was in the Clardy’s kitchen feasting on Sweet Sam’s fresh-caught fish and Bodacious Buffy’s sensational salad. I may have had to fight my way through the rains of Ranchipur to get that to that supper, but it was definitely worth the drive.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Sunday Celebration
The breeze brushed the sun-bathed surface of the water just enough to create shimmering diamonds of light as far as the eye could see. I could almost hear the laughter of my grandchildren splashing in the surf. I could almost smell the scent of salt drying on their sun-kissed skin emerging from splashing in the surf. So much to savor and celebrate.
Every day is cause for celebration because it takes a whole lot of celebration to rise above the sorrows of life. And every Deep South celebration has a sensuousness to it: sights and smells, touches and tastes that seems bolder and broader than anywhere else. You can smell the storms before you see them; you can even smell the sunlight as it reaches down to caress your skin. You can taste the tingle of the cool breeze coming off the water as it whispers across your bare skin being baked by the sun. And you shiver, as much from the pure joy of it all as it is from the breeze blowing by.
The beaches of Biloxi are more beautiful now than I ever remembered them being. With the destruction of Hurricane Katrina and the post-Katrina clean-up, many of the old fifties-era kitsch shops are a thing of the past, replaced by new upscale casinos and miles of new virgin white sand. Pristine piers lead out into the water, and brand new benches dot the boardwalks. The trees that were left leafless and without any hope of recovery have been given new life as sculptures with roots by artists with visions of vitality re-imagined.
It was all I could do to keep myself from pressing my flesh into the warm embrace of the sand and attempting to walk the diamond path all the way to the horizon. But Nick was playing another lacrosse game, and I still hadn’t seen Scott’s garden show display. So, I didn’t succumb to the siren song of the sea and sand, but I certainly enjoyed the journey from one destination to the next.
As it turns out, at the garden show, I got to watch Scott putting his best sales mojo onto a prospective pool customer before I took Buffy out to a waterfront restaurant for good salty oysters on the half-shell. After lunch, I got to watch Nick score several goals to lead his team to a win while his sister sat in my lap. Like this wasn’t heavenly enough, my niece Melanie, her husband and two little boys came to join us at the field. This may not have been Super Bowl Sunday, but it certainly was a super Sunday.
Every day is cause for celebration because it takes a whole lot of celebration to rise above the sorrows of life. And every Deep South celebration has a sensuousness to it: sights and smells, touches and tastes that seems bolder and broader than anywhere else. You can smell the storms before you see them; you can even smell the sunlight as it reaches down to caress your skin. You can taste the tingle of the cool breeze coming off the water as it whispers across your bare skin being baked by the sun. And you shiver, as much from the pure joy of it all as it is from the breeze blowing by.
The beaches of Biloxi are more beautiful now than I ever remembered them being. With the destruction of Hurricane Katrina and the post-Katrina clean-up, many of the old fifties-era kitsch shops are a thing of the past, replaced by new upscale casinos and miles of new virgin white sand. Pristine piers lead out into the water, and brand new benches dot the boardwalks. The trees that were left leafless and without any hope of recovery have been given new life as sculptures with roots by artists with visions of vitality re-imagined.
It was all I could do to keep myself from pressing my flesh into the warm embrace of the sand and attempting to walk the diamond path all the way to the horizon. But Nick was playing another lacrosse game, and I still hadn’t seen Scott’s garden show display. So, I didn’t succumb to the siren song of the sea and sand, but I certainly enjoyed the journey from one destination to the next.
As it turns out, at the garden show, I got to watch Scott putting his best sales mojo onto a prospective pool customer before I took Buffy out to a waterfront restaurant for good salty oysters on the half-shell. After lunch, I got to watch Nick score several goals to lead his team to a win while his sister sat in my lap. Like this wasn’t heavenly enough, my niece Melanie, her husband and two little boys came to join us at the field. This may not have been Super Bowl Sunday, but it certainly was a super Sunday.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Savoring the Soup
How awful it was to have to make soup without Richard! Chuck and Gayle wanted to spend a quiet week-end together, and we know nothing stays quiet long when I'm around. Obviously, Chuck wasn't going to be chopping my veggies for me. Time for a fall-back position.
At first, I called my nephew-in-law James, who cooks for a living, and told him I was bringing the ingredients for him to help me cut. But, since he's Mr. Mom to a two and an under-one-year old while my niece Melanie is in college, that didn't work out. The boys are just too adorable to ignore; besides, Melanie and James don't have a fifty-five gallon drum sized pot for the vat of soup I planned to make.
I began boiling the soup meat and soup bones when I got to Scott and Buffy's house. While they cooled enough to be refrigerated, we went to Miya's "little" birthday party. OMG! It looked like Sandra Lee had set the stage for "Semi Homemade" There was pink and chocolate everywhere. I was almost in a sugar shock coma by the time we left the housefull of squealing nine-year-old princesses. It was so nice to get back to the garlic and beef infused atmosphere I had created at Scott's.
By the time I got up in the morning, Buffy had returned the soup pot to the kitchen from where she refrigerated it overnight. Then the fun began. I defatted and deboned the meat while Buffy chopped carrots. Neither Buffy nor I fine cut anything; home cooking looks homemade when we cook. But I was a bit disappointed for Gayle's family that they wouldn't get a tiny morsel of each ingredient in each spoonful of soup. Oh, well, I guess they'll just have to use bigger spoons.
At first, I called my nephew-in-law James, who cooks for a living, and told him I was bringing the ingredients for him to help me cut. But, since he's Mr. Mom to a two and an under-one-year old while my niece Melanie is in college, that didn't work out. The boys are just too adorable to ignore; besides, Melanie and James don't have a fifty-five gallon drum sized pot for the vat of soup I planned to make.
I began boiling the soup meat and soup bones when I got to Scott and Buffy's house. While they cooled enough to be refrigerated, we went to Miya's "little" birthday party. OMG! It looked like Sandra Lee had set the stage for "Semi Homemade" There was pink and chocolate everywhere. I was almost in a sugar shock coma by the time we left the housefull of squealing nine-year-old princesses. It was so nice to get back to the garlic and beef infused atmosphere I had created at Scott's.
By the time I got up in the morning, Buffy had returned the soup pot to the kitchen from where she refrigerated it overnight. Then the fun began. I defatted and deboned the meat while Buffy chopped carrots. Neither Buffy nor I fine cut anything; home cooking looks homemade when we cook. But I was a bit disappointed for Gayle's family that they wouldn't get a tiny morsel of each ingredient in each spoonful of soup. Oh, well, I guess they'll just have to use bigger spoons.
Friday, February 26, 2010
So Much For Stillness
While Richard is quite content with his hobbies and his house, I’m yearning for action – something to write about. I’ve yet to see the first sign of spring in our neck of the woods; birds at the feeder and snowflakes in the air are all that’s happening around our holler.
Winter is for waiting, but must we be still while we wait? I once tutored a child who could only read while rocking. I understood perfectly, because he reminded me of myself. My mind seems to be focused
only when my body moves, so I’m off to warmer climates where there are lots of things to do.
Scott is participating in the annual Gulf Coast Garden Show with his pool and palm business. I’d love to see his display, and watch him at his work. I may even be able to attend with Gayle who is such an avid gardener that she’s taking a master gardener class. Planning for planting is a great way to beat the winter doldrums. In fact, Mountaintop Mary has already started buying her seeds, even though planting in Coker Creek’s ground is still two months away. I should have such serenity.
Gayle has taken herself off wheat, so I want to make her some beef and barley soup. This was a favorite of her family when I used to fill in as adult-in-charge when she and Chuck lived near me. Chuck has taken up cooking, so maybe I can give him a lesson or two. Perhaps, I can entice him to cut up the mountain of vegetables the soup requires. I can compare his prep cook skills to Richard’s, if I can get him to wield the knife. And he and I can experiment with adapting pasta recipes using rice noodles to accommodate to Gayle new dietary desires.
I still owe Miya a chocolate birthday cake; I hope she’ll help me bake it. And Nicholas is playing Lacrosse six times in this one week-end. I hear he’s very good, but have yet to see him perform. This is my chance to cheer him on. I’m also hoping to use some of the time for planning the springtime retreat in Coker Creek that Gayle and I would like to host.
While Coker Creek is hunkered down I’ll be revving up with lots of tales to bring back with me. I’ve already brought back the beads. If Richard throws the party, and the beads, while I’m down south, we’ll just have to have a repeat performance upon my return.
Winter is for waiting, but must we be still while we wait? I once tutored a child who could only read while rocking. I understood perfectly, because he reminded me of myself. My mind seems to be focused
only when my body moves, so I’m off to warmer climates where there are lots of things to do.
Scott is participating in the annual Gulf Coast Garden Show with his pool and palm business. I’d love to see his display, and watch him at his work. I may even be able to attend with Gayle who is such an avid gardener that she’s taking a master gardener class. Planning for planting is a great way to beat the winter doldrums. In fact, Mountaintop Mary has already started buying her seeds, even though planting in Coker Creek’s ground is still two months away. I should have such serenity.
Gayle has taken herself off wheat, so I want to make her some beef and barley soup. This was a favorite of her family when I used to fill in as adult-in-charge when she and Chuck lived near me. Chuck has taken up cooking, so maybe I can give him a lesson or two. Perhaps, I can entice him to cut up the mountain of vegetables the soup requires. I can compare his prep cook skills to Richard’s, if I can get him to wield the knife. And he and I can experiment with adapting pasta recipes using rice noodles to accommodate to Gayle new dietary desires.
I still owe Miya a chocolate birthday cake; I hope she’ll help me bake it. And Nicholas is playing Lacrosse six times in this one week-end. I hear he’s very good, but have yet to see him perform. This is my chance to cheer him on. I’m also hoping to use some of the time for planning the springtime retreat in Coker Creek that Gayle and I would like to host.
While Coker Creek is hunkered down I’ll be revving up with lots of tales to bring back with me. I’ve already brought back the beads. If Richard throws the party, and the beads, while I’m down south, we’ll just have to have a repeat performance upon my return.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Snow
So silently, so softly it falls to the earth;
So swiftly, it changes my heart.
Where in sunshine I make plans to conquer,
In the winter God whispers, “Wait.”
As He lays this blanket across my breast,
He holds me tight and says,
“Stop! Hear Me! Do not worry.
All that is meant will come to pass.”
As I wait the snow begins to dance,
A Russian ballet in white --
No longer whispering, but flying
Inviting my heart to take flight
Teasing, taunting,
To play or to pray?
Both are avenues
To Peace and Joy.
So swiftly, it changes my heart.
Where in sunshine I make plans to conquer,
In the winter God whispers, “Wait.”
As He lays this blanket across my breast,
He holds me tight and says,
“Stop! Hear Me! Do not worry.
All that is meant will come to pass.”
As I wait the snow begins to dance,
A Russian ballet in white --
No longer whispering, but flying
Inviting my heart to take flight
Teasing, taunting,
To play or to pray?
Both are avenues
To Peace and Joy.
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