We went to the supermarket Shop-Rite last Thursday after making a few deliveries in the Albany, NY area. I like the supermarket chain Shop-Rite; it’s where my family shopped where I grew up in Iselin, NJ. Unfortunately, there are no Shop-Rites in Vermont, so I go there whenever I can.
We wanted to make a summery meal like we would have if we went away somewhere; it would be some shellfish for me. Marty suggested grilled bbq chicken, something I have never made before, believe it or not. Meal planning is the hardest part of cooking, so if someone gives me a suggestion or request, I jump on it.
All the memories that I had of grilled bbq chicken were terrible ones. Whoever was the “grill master” would start with some delicious-smelling chicken. Then they would brush bbq sauce on the grilled chicken parts. Here’s the bad part, they would leave the chicken on the grill until it was completely black and incinerated.
I know the people who were doing the grilling didn’t do the cooking inside their homes but insisted on doing the outdoor cooking. I also know they didn’t want to kill their families and guests from food poisoning from undercooked chicken. But hello, do you have eyes and a nose? Don’t you see it turning black and smelling burned? Is that how you eat it when someone who knows how to grill serves it?
As a kid, I would be so disappointed that bbq chicken was ruined. My dad never made bbq chicken; grilling wasn’t his thing; he liked to cook. So I had to have it at other people’s cookouts. Everyone would pretend to eat the chicken that was burnt beyond recognition. I’m sure people had to stop at McDonald’s or White Castle on their way home since everyone was starving after the cookout.
Last night on a Michael Pollan show called “Cooked,” they showed an old black and white TV clip where a son watched his father grill and asked the dad why he was cooking. “A women’s place is in the kitchen; men do the outdoor barbequing.” Thank goodness things have changed.
Since we decided on bbq chicken, I read how to make it, which is much easier than smoking chicken. The cook time is quicker, but you have to pay more attention. I followed a recipe loosely that turned out better than I thought. Yay!
I brined the chicken for a few hours then patted it dry. Next, I covered the chicken parts with olive oil, kosher salt, and pepper. Unfortunately, it took me a while to have a fire hot enough to grill on; Marty had to come to my rescue since I don’t have my fire-starting badge yet.
The recipe instructions called for a hot and cool side of the grill. So, basically, you push all the hot coals over to one side. I followed the recipe searing the skin side first on the hot side of the grill, then flipping it over to do the same thing to the other side.
Next, I moved the chicken to the cool side of the grill. I kept checking and flipping the chicken. I also checked the temperature of the chicken; when it was getting close to 165 degrees, I started brushing on the bbq sauce. I repeated this a few times until the temperature of the chicken was above 180-degrees. If I didn’t brine the chicken first, it might have started drying out at that point.
I took the chicken off the grill and let it sit while I concentrated on the rest of our dinner. It came out really good! Better than I had hoped for! Yes! It was some legit bbq chicken. We all agreed it was the best thing I’ve made on the smoker grill so far.
I love roasted chicken and could eat it every day; now I love bbq chicken as much and could definitely eat it every day. I’m so happy that this time I was successful on my first try! Yay!
Photo credit Wayside Country Store. Fireworks from the Firemen’s Carnival practically over our house last night.
It happens every summer; by July, Marty and I feel burnt out. We both feel like we are running on a hamster wheel and not getting anywhere. It also feels like the movie “Groundhogs Day” with Bill Murray. Every day is the same, done in the same order with the same results pretty much.
As I type this, sipping my coffee on this rainy Sunday morning, I’m thinking about how far we are behind already for next week. I’m also thinking about when the hell the rain is going to stop. The rain held off for our farmers market yesterday and for the Arlington Firemen’s Carnival on Friday and Saturday. I am glad for both because it’s the same amount of work if the weather is gorgeous and you know you will have lots of customers as it is fretting about bad weather and IF you will have any customers. You have to be ready in both cases and keep your fingers crossed.
Last week was a whirlwind of ups and downs. The ups were fantastic, and the downs were…well, not great. I know I am burned out when there are so many things I want to do and have to do that I end up biting off more than I can chew and get frazzled and stressed. Not being able to do the things I want to do puts me in a shitty ass mood.
We had a great time when my sister Jennifer came for a visit, but we had to work both days. It’s not that we don’t like to work, we love our business and making spätzle, but there aren’t enough hours in the day to work and have a life. I also know most business owners don’t have a life, but we love summer so much, and it’s so short here in Vermont that we both see it slipping away…quickly.
I don’t have enough time to write, which bums me out because I have so many things going through my head that I want to tell you about but can’t. I’m hardly on social media because I have to use that time to get things done; when I do go on, I see everyone’s vacation photos. I am envious that my friends are on beaches and at pools. They are eating lobster rolls and other amazing summertime foods. They are at live music concerts, traveling, and camping.
It seems everyone is enjoying their summer while I am over here running on the hamster wheel. When I say envious, I mean it; I don’t mean jealous; I am happy that my friends are living their lives again after a year of doing nothing. On the other hand, we are doing the same thing as we did last year; of our own doing. Don’t get me wrong; I am grateful we even still have a business after last year; we just need to come up for air for a minute.
Thursday, we were in Albany, NY, by 9 am, an hour from here, to make some deliveries. It would not be a production day, which set us back even further. We went into a big Shop-Rite while we were there already and planned our menu for later that night. We decided on a summery menu since it was probably the only hot & sunny day of the week.
We had other deliveries to make later in the afternoon, Marty went North, and I went South to get them all done. I was so hot, tired, and flustered that I lost my keys in the van; I knew they were there because I unlocked the doors. I spent the next 20 minutes cursing, praying to St. Anthony to help me find my keys. I know that St. Anthony is so sick of me losing shit all the time, but he always comes through. “St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please come around; my keys are missing and can’t be found.” I am sure he makes me wait to pay for all the cursing I do.
At one point during the missing key situation, I really started getting mad. There was no way on fucking earth I would make that call to Marty and tell him I lost the keys in the van. No way that was going to happen! Just as I almost started to cry, I looked down and saw the key stuck between the front seat and the cargo area. I thanked St. Anthony the whole way to my next delivery.
At my next delivery, I somehow cut my pinky finger, and it bled like a mother. I didn’t know where or how I did it but realized it when I was covered with blood. I quickly went back into the place I made the delivery to see if I was bleeding in there, but thank goodness I wasn’t. I had to wrap my pinky in a dirty, crumpled-up tissue that I found under the seat where the key was hiding earlier. Thank God this was my last delivery stop. I got home so much later than I planned. This is how life on the hamster wheel goes, going nowhere fast.
At this point, I am also going to add that somehow, on the Fourth of July, while sitting down, my left quad leg muscle went into a painful spasm that has left me hobbling around, having to go up and down stairs like Gimpy. I’ve tried everything to get this muscle to heal, but it’s taking its sweet ass time. It’s so frustrating since I am on my feet constantly, and it hurts. I am a train wreck right now, aren’t I? LOL
Back to Thursday…when I got home, I still wanted to make the meal we planned on when we bought all the ingredients in Shop-Rite. Was I nuts? Yes! Did I pull it off? Barely. Did it taste good, and more importantly, was it worth it? You bet your ass it was.
Today we are relaxing. We tried to plan a quick getaway for a night or two but forgot we were finally getting the cracked windshield replaced in the van after months of waiting. Our particular windshield hasn’t been available during the pandemic, which means we haven’t been able to get the van inspected either. We have to be grown-ups and have it done and take the van for inspection. I hate being a grown-up! I wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to grow up if I knew it sucked sometimes.
Typing this blog post early this morning…
So enough of my pissing and moaning. I’m not looking for sympathy or anything like that; it’s an authentic blog that can’t be all made-up bullshit and roses. I get cranky and whiny when I feel burned out. I’ll get over it. It’s funny that I chose the mug that says, “GET SHIT DONE” for my coffee this morning; probably a bad choice, but I didn’t even think when I poured my coffee.
The Firemen’s Carnival firetruck and tractor rides…packed every non-stop trip they both made all night.
All in all, the weekend turned out well. We sat on our front porch Friday night and watched all the people going to and from the carnival. We lost track of how many times the firetruck and tractor rides went by our house. People waved to us while we were relaxing with a cocktail. I was indeed relaxed, especially since I made myself a Bloody Mary to go with my late lunch after production.
Sometimes you just have to have a Bloody Mary for lunch…I mean with lunch. We laugh that it is like a salad with tomatoes and other veggies from the V-8. Potatoes from the vodka, celery from the celery salt, and horseradish. I always add lemon to my Bloody Mary; it wakes it up and doesn’t make it too acidy.
We had a successful farmers’ market selling out before the market was over. Last night we went to the Firemen’s carnival; Marty and Sam were on call with the rescue squad, so they brought the ambulance to the carnival in case they had a call, which they did at the end of the night. I had a good time; it was fun catching up with some friends were haven’t seen for a long time.
Look how much Sam grew up from just a few years ago. We always take this selfie every year. This one made us cry laughing last night when I found it.
Later on, I am looking forward to writing about the fantastic food I made on that frazzled Thursday. I am making a pot of Indian Butter Chicken for dinner tonight or tomorrow and some more doggie meatballs for Klaus. This type of cooking isn’t a chore; it’s my zen. Have a great Sunday, guys! Thanks for listening.
I’ve made French Onion Soup many times; I started with Julia Child’s French Onion Soup recipe from “Mastering the Art of French Cooking.” This is a very tough cookbook to use, let alone master. I know many inexperienced home cooks who will buy a copy, try a couple of the labor-intensive recipes, and vow to never cook anything from it again.
This cookbook was intended for American home cooks who wanted to learn how to cook French food. I read somewhere that Julia thought all the recipes were “manageable.” Manageable, meaning you already know how to cook well and have odd and hard-to-find ingredients available. You also need an array of kitchenware and a whole lot of time.
Julia is a very talented cook/chef who started cooking late in life. She mastered French cooking in a snap. I’ve wondered how in the hell she can lift, flip, pound ingredients with such ease and use hefty cookware. She is over a foot taller than me and stronger than most men…that’s how.
Don’t get me wrong; I love Julia Child and this cookbook. I love rewatching her PBS French Chef TV episodes. Her French Chef TV series actually showed American home cooks how to tackle the recipes. I have the cookbook The French Chef that I got for Christmas a few years ago from my sister Heather. I like this cookbook so much more because the recipes are written more clearly, and only covered the cream of the crop recipes on the TV show, not the other 150+ unmanageable ones.
I’ve tried making Julia’s 8-page French omelet in the same kind of pan she used, I am not tall enough at the stove to follow her instructions, so I have to adapt. She adapted by having all her kitchen counters, including on the set of the French Chef, lifted so she didn’t have to bend down. Realistically, I can’t have mine lowered. I am also not strong enough to shake the cast iron pan around like I am making jiffy pop.
After I made Julia’s onion soup the first time, I tried some shortcut recipes. I did the same thing with her 38-step Boeuf Bourguignon recipe. The shortcuts didn’t cut the mustard. After trying a dozen shortcut recipes, I’ve decided to use the French Chef’s recipes if I want to make it.
None of the shortcut recipes had the same depth of flavor as Julia’s. The soup tasted ok, but not the best onion soup I ever had. The same thing happened with the boeuf bourguignon recipe. I constantly compared the shortcut recipes to Julia’s, so I stop wasting time and use her damn recipe.
Julia is straightforward before she even starts the recipe to use a very sharp chef’s knife. Using a sharp knife to cut onions does not break down the cell walls inside the onion’s membranes. A dull knife causes a rougher cut, which in turn release gases that make your eyes burn. Shortcut recipes don’t tell you that. I used a very sharp knife, and my eyes teared up anyway.
Yellow onions sliced before caramelizing
Not too many ingredients to make the soup. I used a California red like Julia did.
The caramelization process and after deglazing with red wine. All the fond came off the bottom of the pot. Fond is the brown bits at the bottom of the pot, deglazed with wine or stock. In Julia’s case, it was always wine or some other kind of liquor.
Shortcut recipes rush the caramelization of the onions resulting in not as rich a flavor. They also don’t have you add grated fresh onion at the end of the cooking. I experimented and tasted the soup before I added the freshly grated onions. It tasted like french onion soup; I tasted it again after I added the fresh onion, and I’ll be damned…it does “lift” the soup up with a stronger onion flavor in a good way. I could taste the rich caramelized onions as well as the fresh ones. Genius!
After adding the beef stock. I added half a red onion and half a vadalia onion; it’s what I had in the fridge. I would have used a whole yellow onion if I didn’t have these laying around.
Shortcut recipes have you toast the baguette slices then melt cheese on them before adding them to the soup. What the hell kind of lazy shit is that? You add a whole cup of the cheese, a combination of Swiss & Parmesan on top of the bread floating on top of the soup, then put it under the broiler to melt. The results? Ooey gooey cheesy heavenly topped onion soup.
The soup takes about 2 1/2 hours from start to finish, with the most time caramelizing the onions. I had things to do in the kitchen, and I wrote my surf & turf post while the onions were doing their thing.
I let the soup cool a bit then I popped it into the fridge for the next evening’s dinner. When it was time to reheat the soup, I brought it up to a simmer slowly. In the meantime, I got the grated cheeses and baguette crotons ready.
Just before we were going to eat, I ladled the soup into large soup crocks. Next, I floated the baguette crotons on top, topping with both grated cheeses.
Just a few minutes under the broiler and the cheese was bubbling and golden. My crocks were much too large to get the cheese to ooze down the sides of the crocks. I’ll have to keep my eye out in thrift shops for smaller crocks.
The soup was hotter than hell when we tried to eat it. It was like hot lava; cheese topped hot lava. Finally, when I could get in there, I actually used a fork to lift a piece of long pully cheese. It was so good! It was also very filling.
My sister Jennifer was visiting from NJ and said that it was the best French Onion Soup she ever had; it definitely is up there with the best of the best, not because I made it, but because I followed a fabulous recipe. Julia Child’s recipe.
If you like to cook, I urge you to try the Julia Child recipe and follow it exactly. I promise in the end; you will not be disappointed. If you don’t like to cook, find someone who does and get them to make it for you.
It’s like Goldy Locks and the Three Bears…Someone’s been prepping in my space, and there she is.
I’ve been missing in action for a couple of days; my sister Jennifer was visiting from NJ. Whenever I have company, I spend time with them and try not to use my phone or laptop. Jen arrived Monday evening driving up after work; she’s a pediatric dentist. She’s super smart, lol.
We had a late dinner of french onion soup and a roasted carrot salad with maple, balsamic dressing. We ended up having dinner for two because Marty and Sam were out in a rescue squad call. Two back-to-back calls; these poor guys ate their dinner after midnite. What made me feel even worse was that they were both starving before their first call.
Marty and I made a lot of spätzle on Monday with the hopes of not working in the production kitchen during Jen’s visit, but the wholesale orders were pouring in, which is a blessing, so we told Jennifer she would be working with us. She didn’t mind at all.
Marty and I are the entire Vermont Spätzle Company, but it was easy to find something for Jen to help with. As a pediatric dentist, she was meticulous when weighing and measuring spätzle then packing the spätzle into our 12 oz retail-sized packages.
I told her to pack work clothes just in case we needed to work; she was so cute when she came down the stairs with her scrubs on.
The three of us were able to bang out production with ease which left the rest of the day free. We ate, hung out, watched movies, laughed a lot, and had another late dinner.
I made jerk pork tenderloin on the grill with candied curried sweet potatoes and grilled pineapple. Jen brought the pineapple and talked me through how she makes it. It is finished with chili-lime seasoning which gave it a kick, and the lime cut through the sweetness. The grilled pineapple was delicious; I will definitely be making this again! I didn’t take any photos since it was an unattractive tone on tone meal: Delicious, but nothing great to look at.
It was a short visit since she left at noon yesterday. We made an early lunch before she left; we made Thai panang chicken curry with rice noodles. It was best she left when she did to avoid downstate traffic, and we had a severe thunderstorm around 3 pm. The storm was even worse in the Albany area, so I’m thankful she wasn’t driving through there then.
It feels natural for Jennifer to help me in the kitchen; I always insist that no one helps me. I had her prep the vegetables for the curry. When I looked at her, she was standing in my exact prepping spot with Klaus right at her feet, hoping for something to fall off the workbench. I saw myself when I looked at them. Standing the same way, she’s just a foot taller than me with a ponytail and glasses like mine. Lol!
Her knife cuts were perfect and exact then I showed her how I make my Thai curries. I make mine very traditional; no fusion ingredients. A few simple ingredients are all it takes. I’ll have to post one of the Thai recipes that we made in my cooking class.
Marty and I had to head back into the production kitchen after she left to squeeze in a couple more batches of spätzle. Marty needed it to make 3 deliveries in the afternoon when I went to bellydance class.
We had a great time. It’s hard to believe Jennifer, and I have only known each other for a little over two years. It feels like we’ve always known each other. She will be back in a couple of weeks for another very short visit with her kids Sofia & Julian; to make up for our botched Fourth of July celebration.
We want to try to fit in a bunch of things in only 24 hours, including tubing down the Battenkill River and a gondola ride up Stratton Mountain. Hopefully, Mother Nature will be kind to us and bless us with nice weather.
Whenever you think of surf and turf, do you think about a fancy dinner out in a fine dining restaurant, perhaps on Valentine’s Day? I sure do! The old-school original surf and turf was a lobster tail set gloriously on top of its shell alongside a filet mignon. Usually served with asparagus or green beans almandine. Remember those I wrote about last month?
When I use the words fancy and a romantic holiday like Valentine’s Day, it can mean only one thing…Big bucks. That is exactly why the dish that doesn’t go together, culinarily speaking, was created.
Some restaurateurs had the idea of taking two of the highest-priced menus items and putting them together, creating an entrée that was over the top and special. Oh, and expensive. It became the “Surf & Turf for Two” special on Valentine’s Day especially. Surf and turf remained very popular through the 60s and 70s.
Modern takes on surf & turf. Pinterest images.
You still see variations of surf and turf in many restaurants today, but things have changed. While you can still find fancy AF surf and turf, you can also find it in a fast-food restaurants; and everywhere in between.
White Castles version of surf & turf. I love White Castle but never ordered one; now, I am gluten-free and can’t. Photo credit White Castle
The surf or seafood part doesn’t have to be lobster tail anymore; it can be shrimp or scallops or another kind of seafood. The meat doesn’t have to be a filet mignon. It can be a porterhouse or strip steak, or any beef for that matter.
Today for Sunday dinner, I went freezer hunting and found a bag of bay scallops, those are the little ones that you don’t sear, and a flat iron steak. There wasn’t enough of either to be the main entrée, so I decided to use them both and do surf and turf.
Flat iron steak is one of our favorite cuts of steak. It’s tender and flavorful; plus, it’s so quick and easy to make. I patted the steak dry and coated both sides generously with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper. Then I grilled it for 5 minutes on one side and 4 minutes on the other. It was medium rare on the rare side, how we all like it. I also made an herb compound butter to put on top of the steak while it was resting. When the compound butter melts and mixes with the steak juices, it creates a delicious sauce.
Before and after LOL
I never buy bay scallops, but I remember they were stupid cheap and figured I’d try something different. I always sear the large scallops, but I wanted to bake these. I made the baked scallops with a white wine, garlic butter sauce, and lemon with a panko breadcrumb topping. It was super quick and easy; it baked in only 20 minutes.
Trying to decide what sides to make stumped me for a bit since I didn’t feel like making potatoes. I remembered that Marty picked up 6 ears of corn at the Troy Farmers Market yesterday. The corn is very early for this part of the Northeast, but the farmer does the labor-intensive task of covering the rows of corn in plastic…making it ready before anyone else by at least 3 weeks.
It makes me sad that I can’t eat corn…at all. It totally sucks that I follow a low residue diet to manage my ulcerative colitis, but it’s better than a flare-up. I never cheat; it’s not worth the consequences. Marty and Sam said the corn was delicious. Tender and sweet; Marty chose 3 bi-color and 3 white ears. The way I cook corn is still the best way for us. Every time I do it on the grill, they don’t like it, plus it’s a mess.
My cooking method for corn on the cob is putting it in cold water after I remove the husks and silks. I add a teaspoon of sugar to the water. I cover the corn with the water. I turn it on, and as soon as it comes to a boil, I put on the lid and turn off the heat. It comes out perfect every time, with no overcooked, tough corn.
I needed a side dish, so I went back to some old-school restaurant classics and chose Noodles Romanoff. Noodles Romanoff was created by a chef named Michael Romanoff back in the 30s. This side dish was popular, especially during the 60s & 70s; that’s why I picked it. Michael Romanoff was of Hungarian descent and created this dish and named it after himself.
Noodles Romanoff is noodles in a creamy white sauce made with butter, sour cream, and parmesan cheese. There are many variations of the dish, but I kept it simple. I forgot to take a photo of it while I was making it. I made it while the steak was on the grill and the scallops were in the oven. I had to oversee both, so I forgot.
The scallops were flavorful and good, but I still like seared ones with a pan sauce better. The steak was bomb. It was flavorful, juicy, and tender. The compound butter that melted on it pushed it over the edge of deliciousness. The noodles were very good. I just remembered when my mother bought the Betty Crocker Noodles Romanoff in the box when I was a kid. She also used to buy mashed, scalloped, and au gratin potatoes too. I liked all of them, but now that I have had and make the real thing, there isn’t any comparison.
While I was writing this post, I was sitting right next to the stove. I was babysitting a pot of caramelized onions for French onion soup for dinner tomorrow night. I am making Julia Child’s version of the soup, which has more steps than other recipes, but tonight I had the time not to take any shortcuts and went full-on, Julia. You can really taste those extra steps.
While onions are caramelizing I am writing, I have all the other ingredients for Julia Child’s French onion soup ready to go.
Oh great! Now my mouth is watering for lobster since I’ve been writing about it and looking at the images. I’ve been craving seafood eaten at a shack type of place, outside at a picnic table, for a couple of years. I know people are like, “So go!” It’s not that easy with our business; schedules, production, deliveries, and markets. When we can take a couple of days, we have no one to watch Otto and Klaus since Sam is working on those days.
If we can coordinate all of our schedules, we will try to get away for a couple of days in mid-August. I want to go to Portsmouth, NH. I looked at all the restaurants and their menus; there are tons of gluten-free options and lots of lobster shacks. We are such beach people that we need to jump in the ocean and get our feet in the sand. Fingers crossed it works out for us.
Last night I was scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed, and when I say scrolling, that’s what I do, but fast. I like to see what my friends are up to and look at recipes. I scroll quickly, avoiding controversial posts, animals that have been neglected or worse, and other nonsense.
I saw this heartbreaking video that the actress Valerie Bertinelli made. It reminded me of myself, especially the day someone asked me when I was due. I think my exact words were, “That ship pulled out of the port a long time ago.” I left out the “go fuck yourself” because I was at work.
People who hide behind computers and spew out hateful comments about someone else’s weight are the worst kind of body-shaming scumbag cowards. I wonder if Mrs. Moto, I think that was her name, would say it to Valerie’s face?
Valerie Bertinelli was a kid when she was on the 70s tv show “One day at a time.” She was a spokesperson for a weight loss product and got very thin, but put it back on as I’ve done. I’ve been up and down ever since my 30s.
20112011
The photos of my thin, in great shape days, were taken in 2011, a year before I went through and finished menopause. I haven’t been able to look like this again. It’s sad for me to look at those photos of myself. I’m like, “Damn Julz, you looked good!”
Wowzers! Sssss! Holy shit!
Currently, Ms. Bertinelli is on the Food Network, is an excellent cook, has a great palate, and a baker. She just wrote a cookbook, if I recall correctly. Her ex-husband Eddie Van Halen died not too long ago, which makes comments like this even meaner and harder to take.
Why on earth do people think they have the right to body same another person? It’s none of their damn business, and it is extremely damaging and hurtful. Body shaming goes for people who are too thin, short, or tall. People don’t think of those.
Below is the Facebook link to Ms. Bertinelli’s video. It made me cry, and I watched it several times. I actually commented on a famous person’s page, knowing she will never see it, but maybe someone else will going through the same thing.
I told Valerie I was there with her and wrote a painful blog post last month about it. I added the link to the “This is me” post. I just saw that someone liked my comment. Out of 14,000 comments, one of my Bellydance friends, Cherish, loved it.
If you haven’t read the “This is me” blog post here is the link:
Our Bellydance group has had an annual dinner for the last 12+ years. Even though we spend a couple of hours a week together, we dance, we never socialize during that time.
Back in the day, we went to Williamstown, MA, for Thai food every year. For the last few years, we have tried to support local businesses and ate in Bennington.
Last year during the pandemic, we didn’t see each other since March, but we met at the end of June in Kathleen’s backyard for a potluck annual dinner. We all sat with our lawn chairs socially distances apart. I always take annual dinner selfies, but last year, I didn’t even bother. I guess I didn’t want any reminders of how bad life sucked at that time.
This year we decided to continue with the potluck dinner idea. Emily offered to host this year’s annual dinner; she and her husband just purchased a beautiful new home with plenty of room for entertaining. Yay!
It’s always nice to have the chance to sit and chat and not be rushing in or out like at dance class. We get to talk about lots of different topics and enjoy some delicious food as well.
Last night’s potluck was an assortment of delicious food. Each person takes a dinner course, so we don’t end up with just salads or desserts. Marty and I have been at events where everyone brought pepperoni and cheese plates. How disappointing!
Kat made a wonderful curried carrot salad; Maria made a gorgeous fruit salad, Trish put together an impressive cheese plate, Kathleen brought yummy and flavorful deviled eggs. Callie mixed up a summery cocktail with lots of fresh mint. I made my eggplant parm stackers, and Emily doubled up and made an incredible platter of sushi plus brownies with ice cream for dessert. Everything was yummy!
It was such a mix of different flavors, textures, and different nationalities. Even though they were all so different, they worked together for a perfect summer potluck dinner.
All ready to be baked in Emily’s brandy spanking new oven!
At the beginning of the night, I took photos of the table with everyone’s food but forgot to take one of Emily’s beautiful sushi and my eggplant parm. The sushi came out at the last minute before we ate to stay as cold as possible. We saved the eggplant parm as the hot entree, so I forgot to take a finished dish photo when I served it. I did take ones at home while I was assembling the stackers. I also forgot to pull the parmesan cheese that I brought out of my purse and finish it with freshly chiffonaded basil.
Our annual dinners have gotten quieter and tamer over the years. We used to be pretty loud when there were up to 12 or more of us at the Thai restaurant. Every year someone different would reveal something no one knew; Callie was the first one to start this tradition with the news of her first baby girl. No one had anything unknown or a secret to share last night; it was a shitty ass year, maybe that’s why…nothing happened.
Annual dinners from the past
It was so wonderful to be able to sit close together at the table and eat together. It felt like it was a million years since we did, but in another way, it felt like no time passed.
I count myself lucky to have danced or currently dance and share a big part of myself with these women…my dance sisters. Yip!
Last week, I wrote about being a private chef to Klaus, our bulldog with so many allergies that his diet is minimal. He takes medication twice a day for allergies and anti-itching.
I’m finding Klaus likes the food topper I am making, but he knows I am sneaking the pills in his food. When I grew up, it was called being slipped a Mickey. My father always warned me never to put a drink down at a party or bar because someone could slip me a Mickey. He didn’t know how I drank; I never put my drink down!
This morning he was eating his kibbles topped with the beef stew I made last week, and he found the three carrots with the pills in the bowl and spit them out, setting them next to each other on the floor.
“Klaus! You little bastard, what am I going to do with you!” He turned around and smirked at me. Then I laughed because he’s so smart and stubborn. I had to put my thinking cap on and decide what I could use to hide the pills now.
We’ve used liverwurst, peanut butter, cheese, and sweet potatoes to disguise his pills. He figures it out, then won’t eat it anymore. It’s almost like he says to Otto, “They keep trying to poison me, I tell ya; I’ll outsmart them!” And he does.
Today I saw a recipe for doggie meatballs. He loves meatballs…this could work. An article said never to let them see you put the pills in the food or even hear the pill bottle. Good to know.
I defrosted some ground venison and made his meatballs with the venison, an egg, gluten-free oats, and doggie-approved herbs like basil and oregano. I am not a fan of venison, so this was perfect meat to use for him and how low in fat it is.
I made his sauce with some crushed tomatoes, which have no added salt or sugar. Then I added some carrots cut smaller to fool him and some black eye peas that I had in the pantry. The peas are in the bean family, which is high in protein and fiber. They also help regulate dogs’ blood sugar levels. I added some fresh basil and parsley and a dash of oregano. Mangia Mangia!
After I baked the meatballs, I added them to the sauce, which I cooked down until it coated the meatballs. It smells good, but I didn’t try it since I turned off venison when I was a kid. I just can’t do it. I know everyone in VT loves it, but this gal from Jersey had a yucky experience. That all she wrote.
I hope he likes these meatballs because it’s easier to make than the stew. I will make it a Swedish meatball style with a gravy yogurt sauce next week if he does like it. We will see if he eats them or not—that little bastard.
We’re back! Last night I made my first post on our dance organization, Bennington Beledi Tribal Bellydance or BBTB Facebook page. I haven’t posted anything on our page since the pandemic shut us down. Our dance classes will be open to the public after more than 16 months. Thank goodness!
My first Facebook post gave the new time, date, and location. The second one explained to potential new students about our classes:
“Level 1 A & B classes begin immediately following Tribal Warm-up & Workout at 5:45 pm. Tribal Workout is 20 minutes of stretching, moving, and strength training. Perfect to get you ready for class! No experience necessary for our classes…it’s about learning to move your body, dancing, meeting new people & having fun! Our dance space is a judgment-free zone that supports and encourages each other. Plus…It’s the most fun you’ll have all week!“
Our classes begin on Wednesday, July 14 at 5:45 pm, located on the second floor of the old mill building in the “Time for Yourself” personal training space. 160 Benmont Avenue in Bennington, VT.
My next post will remind people of the new classes, what to wear, and what to expect. We don’t expect anyone to show up to their first-class or classes in bellydance wear. We do recommend loose or easy to move in clothing. We do not require you to show your belly. We dance barefoot, but you can bring soft shoes that are easy to dance in.
Kathleen and I have been teaching our dance style, Classic American Tribal Style dance, for 17 years. Our new classes will divide the students into two groups, level 1a, and level 1b. We used to teach this way a few years ago, but after a teacher training, we lumped everyone together. Our core group of students who danced with us through the pandemic used videos, zoom, or in-person; they need to stay on track and not lose momentum.
During our Sahidi Sisters photo shoot last month. Photo credit Karena Webber
I love teaching the newbie level 1a students. I try to make my lessons fun, not intimating at all. I’ve learned how to break each dance move down, including grounding, where your weight is distributed, posture, arm placement, how to walk, turn, zill, and eventually spin.
As the students advance, we teach about musicality, dancing with your heart, not your head, becoming the vessel, tempo, and attitude. Plus many more things.
Our dance style is improv, so our students don’t have to remember or memorize any choreography. That’s the best part for Kathleen and me. Each time we dance to a song, it is different and organic. Each person takes a turn leading while everyone else is following. Our improv is so tight; people can’t believe it isn’t choreographed.
Students don’t need any dance experience, and everyone learns moves at their own pace. Advanced dancers always encourage newer students and try never to make them feel self-conscious while dancing.
As a teacher, I do it my way, of course. Lol. I talk the way I do, explain moves differently based on how a student learns, choose music to compliment certain dance moves. I encourage students during class, and when they leave, I want them to have had fun.
Our dance style takes years of practice to learn all the moves, but a lifetime turning those moves into something special. Gals that just want to move up and perform don’t get the improv part of our dance. When you are leading, you are taking care of your followers. You want to make everyone look beautiful. It’s not a one-woman show, which is why we typically don’t do solos. We do group improv…divas don’t like this and don’t last long.
Our dance is more than dance. It’s a sisterhood. It’s about dedication and trusting your dance sisters in class and on stage. We are there for each other through thick and through thin. I don’t know other hobbies or classes that are like this. It’s hard to explain, but it is extraordinary. From the moment you step into our dance space, you can feel how happy everyone is to be there and truly welcome new dancers.
I hope to get at least 3 new students for this 6-week session. When students are comfortable with level 1a classes and are ready, they move to level 1b. When they are ready they stay for our level 2, then eventually level 3 classes. I say when they are ready because we never push anyone to move up faster than they should.
At the end of the night, we’ve danced for 2 hours straight, and everyone leaves hot, sweaty, and exhausted…but a good exhausted. Having new students changes the energy and excitement levels of our classes. I can’t wait! Yip!
Plumped up again and lots of new flower buds will soon fill in the green spots that were damaged.
A three weeks ago, my magnificent hanging petunias took a beating during a thunderstorm. One faired ok; the other one was in sad shape.
I read to leave it be and continue to do what I’ve been doing. The article said it would take a couple of weeks, but it would come back. Yay! They were right!
The reiki master/shaman in me couldn’t help but do reiki on “Tuni” every time I watered her. I also whispered, “You can do this, kid.” When I applied reiki, I witnessed the leaves moving. I shit you not! For real!
As Tuni started getting stronger, her brother Pete looked a little thin. I laugh because I am referring to them like they are pets, but in a way, they are. I think Pete started getting jealous of all the attention I was paying to the other petunia. Just like Otto & Klaus!
Last night when I watered them, I gave him a pep talk too. As luck would have it, he looked more lively this morning.
Last night Pete on the right was looking skimpy, this morning he looked great!
A couple of weeks ago, at the start of the heatwave and intense sun, I noticed that the other variety of petunias I have in pots on the back deck all turned yellow. All their flowers dried up, and they, too, looked sad. I moved them to the front porch, which is East facing and only gets morning sun, unlike the back deck that gets full afternoon and early evening sun. I was bummed because not only were my hanging petunias in distress, but these were too. They, too, have bounced back nicely.
The leaves turned green again and have flowers! Hurray!
Our growing season is so short up here in VT that I cherish the short time I have watching my flowers and herbs grow. Yes, it’s no surprise that I thank them in the fall when they begin to die. I know all of this sounds crazy, but we all know by now that I may be or do nutty things. It’s just who I am…
The flowers and herbs that are thriving on the back deck.
Thank goodness things have changed.
