Author: Julz

I had to deliver one of our wholesale customers at North Meadow Farm in Manchester, VT.  I needed to stop to pick up a few bananas, wine, and half & half afterward. I decided to stop at the shopping plaza where the new T.J. Maxx store opened; I need some athletic shorts for the gym. Side note…I don’t wear shorts except in the production kitchen.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with Manchester, VT is a very charming town that had its hay day back in the late 80s when high-end outlet stores opened. Manchester was “the” place to go for tourists as well as famous people. I waited on many of them while I worked at the Polo Ralph Lauren Store.

Manchester, Vt, was one of the first high-end outlet towns in the country. When I worked at Polo, you couldn’t find a parking place if you worked in the afternoon. If you opened, there was a line at the door waiting for the store to open. The stores made millions of dollars, and the town was bustling. Events were planned around back-to-school and Black Friday shoppers. Everyone made money, stores, restaurants, inns, and hotels.

As more and more outlets opened outside of all major cities, people didn’t have to travel to small towns to shop anymore. The outlet stores weren’t a destination anymore, and the sales numbers dropped dramatically. Store after store closed their doors because they couldn’t afford the high rent prices. Of course, this hurts all the other businesses in town as well.

The stores that remain are designer stores with prices that are simply out of reach for people who live here full time. Tourists and second homeowners are what keeps them open. However, the town has reinvented itself and is now a popular wedding destination for many city people.

Shopping in our area is extremely limited. We moved here to get away from the New York and New Jersey area; the last thing we want to do is “Jersey up Vermont.” However, having a store that real working people can afford would be nice.

Choices for me to buy clothing are Good Will, Walmart, and Label Shopper in Bennington. I shop very occasionally at the Gap in Manchester if I am desperate. I feel bad for younger people; in Manchester, most stores’ clothing is…well frumpy or too dressy.

When I pulled into the Price Chopper Supermarket shopping plaza, I couldn’t believe how crowded the parking lot was. I had to go around, trolling for a spot. I snuck around to the side of the building where I used to park back in the busy days. My secret spot was open. Ha!

Now I know T.J. Maxx isn’t a big deal if you have one where you live, but this is a game-changer for the working class and teens. There was a line to get in; only 100 people are allowed in the stores at once; a friendly employee was keeping track, letting people in when others went out.

I only had to wait a few minutes because an army of people came out. It was really great to see a store thrive again. It was all local people shopping. Women smiling behind their masks from ear to ear with their shopping carts filled with candles, throw blankets, food items, and clothing. Young adults all had items in their hands to purchase. For them, they could afford to buy items or a few things for under $25.00.

I was looking for Adidas shorts for the gym. I am a fucking cheapskate and won’t spend a lot of money on something that I will only wear for working out. I found the $35 shorts I saw last week in the mall for $12.99. Yes! I also got a cute black tank top for 9 bucks.

I wondered what the line at the cash wrap was going to be like; I was hoping it wasn’t going to be bad. They had all the registers open, so I waiting in line for less than 5 minutes. I left with a smile on my face. There was a long ass line waiting as I went into the supermarket.

As I walked to my vehicle, I looked at all the parking lot license plates; most of them were all Vermont cars. I could tell the few practical, dirty cars with NY plates belonged to employees from across the border since NY is only a few miles away. As I drove out of town, I looked at the outlet stores’ parking lots; all the new, shiny clean cars were from NY, NJ, CT, and MA.

It seems like the shopping I experienced today was a win-win situation; visitors shop at places they don’t have in their area; while we can shop in a store that is not special to them. I can’t wait to try on my shorts and tank…both black, of course. What a shocker. LOL.

We had to head to the Albany, NY, area early this morning. We were meeting our Pennsylvania distributor, Alpine Wurst and Meat House at a large Shop-rite supermarket. They deliver their sausages to Shop-rite, and we hand off our spatzle to their delivery person. It works out conveniently for all of us.

After our delivery, we went shopping at Restaurant Depot, aka Foods R Us. This is the Toys R Us of the restaurant world. The first time we walked into Restaurant Depot 4 years ago, we were in shock. It is Sam’s Club or BJ’s size, but they only sell things that restaurants use.

We got our free membership for the business when we were doing an Octoberfest event. We were going to be hot food vendors. We’ve both cooked for crowds before and knew exactly what we needed. It was a little overwhelming; we were in there for close to 3 hours to get everything we needed.

When we visit Restaurant Depot, we purchase supplies for the business and some items for ourselves. When we arrived, the place was packed! I mean, we haven’t seen it this busy for a long time. We guessed that more and more food businesses are re-opening.

So we don’t get off track; we have a list that we try to stick to unless there are bargains that we just can’t live without. Today I took photos because I wanted to share our shopping trip with you guys today. I didn’t even take photos of half the aisles.

I saw the store through different eyes, trying to show you all the things that blew our minds the first time we went. I tried to capture the sheer size of the place; it’s huge. The refrigerated section is gigantic with an entire row of different cheeses, another aisle with just deli meat, bacon, and fancy charcuterie. The dairy aisle has anything you would need, and the produce section…whole shit, it is gigantic! There are meats and seafood as well. They sell kosher and halal meats and other items.

All of the quantities are commercial size and priced well. We also purchase our cleaning solutions and detergent for the business and rubber gloves, green scrubby pads, tablecloths, sanitizer tablets, and the list goes on and on.

So who shops at Restaurant Depot? Small businesses do. Larger restaurants and chain restaurants get their food delivered directly to them. Small businesses can’t meet the minimum amount every week, so they have to purchase things themselves.

Many ethnic restaurants shop at Restaurant Depot, so you will find things you would never see in regular supermarkets. Goat, salted, dried cod, and other animal parts from nose to tail.

Restaurants that don’t cook anything from scratch are in heaven. Anything that you have ever seen on the menu in a restaurant, bar, snack bar, bowling alley, ball-game is available. Large boxes of candy, drinks, chips, you name it, they have it.

Last year right before Covid hit, we took our chef friend Martin to Restaurant Depot. Martin was fascinated and confused. He’s been a chef for more than 40 years and couldn’t believe what he saw in the freezer section. “Why would they have this? It’s so easy to make. Why do they have that? You can make it for much less money? We were hysterical watching him in bewilderment.

We shopped quickly since we were both staving and breezed right through the check out with our U-boat. They don’t have shopping carts at Restaurant Depot. It’s impressive how people can whirl their U-boats around loaded to the gills.

It was great to see the place buzzing with action again. People from every walk of life and ethnicity were shopping. They were moving quickly, dodging the forklifts in the aisles with determined looks on their faces. They were there to get what they needed for their businesses and make some money again. Thank goodness!

I know in past lives I’ve must have been a cook. I can imagine myself working as a hired chuckwagon cook for the cowboys back in the 1800s. I can almost smell the coffee brewing, biscuits baking in a dutch over, onions and potatoes frying, and grilling up juicy sizzling steaks.

I can also see myself as a cook in a primitive time, working with other cooks preparing meals for my village. I am sweaty and can see children running around, kicking up dust from the dry dirt. We are anticipating what the men would bring back from the hunt.

I love cooking outside. We opened up our summer kitchen on Sunday, and I used it yesterday. I cook outside any day the weather is decent. Last summer, we extended our deck with a lower level creating an outdoor commercial kitchen.

We have our dining table and bar cart on the upper deck, plus a ceramic smoker, a long prep table, and a sink we haven’t installed yet.

Summer kitchens in our country date back to the revolutionary war. Typically they were attached to a large home as a smaller structure. The large family homes were timber-framed, but the summer kitchens were made of stone. The stone structure was to protect the main house in case of a fire.

These summer kitchens were built and used for various reasons. The obvious reason is to keep the heat and smells from cooking out of the home, especially in the warmer months. Another reason was to keep the servants or slaves separated outside of the family’s home.

The kitchen had a large stove and a fireplace where prep work, cooking, baking, and canning were done. However, the food was stored inside of the house or root cellar.

Summer kitchens were still used until about 1930, making way for new stoves and ovens that could be used without building a fire. Outdoor kitchens became storage sheds; however, they remained popular in the mid-west during the summer for a long time. They are a fantastic feature to an older home on the real estate market today.

Backyard cookouts began in the 1950s, and America was cooking outside with their shiny brand new grills. Men were the ones that typically did the grilling and barbecuing while the women prepped everything for him, made all the side dishes, set the picnic table, cleaned up, and did the dishes. The guy stood around drinking a beer while the wife ran around like a fucking idiot.

I don’t understand why men were given and entrusted with the cookout’s food in the first place. They didn’t cook a damn thing indoors; how would they know when the food was done? Is that why they burned it? They didn’t want to kill their family from food poisoning?

I remember the cookouts I went to as a kid; the hotdogs and hamburgers were always pitch black, and the bbq chicken was burned beyond recognition. I usually chose a hotdog because I could peel the black skin off of it. The burgers were incinerated hockey pucks. I was always grateful for the delicious sides like potato salad, watermelon, macaroni salad, and beans.

Today you can find absolutely gorgeous outdoor kitchens with well-decorated entertaining space, outdoor fireplaces, flat-screen TVs, and fire pits. Cooking, grilling, and barbecuing have come a long way. People have taught themselves how to cook, bbq and grill from watching cooking shows and Youtube videos. That’s how I learned.

I consider our outdoor kitchen a summer kitchen. It lets me do what I love to do, cook while enjoying the outdoors. I am a total summer girl through and through and don’t want to waste a moment of the warm weather here in Vermont.

Last night, I made my first salad outside with music playing while the sun shining on me, sipping a gin and tonic. I made a watermelon, tomato, and feta cheese salad with a lime dressing.

I will be writing this watermelon salad recipe soon. I am indecisive as to how I want to cut the red onions in the recipe. I’ve been using onion crescents but don’t like the mouth feel or the way they look in the salad. We made this salad in our cooking class last year, and everyone loved it.

Tonight I used the kitchen area on the lower deck. I made jalapeño popper stuffed cheeseburgers, and Marty made the fries. I’ve been using a recipe for the burger I found online last year; it’s ok, but I want to improve upon it. I’ll be sharing this recipe as well as soon as I write it. There is a slew of recipes for the watermelon salad and the burger online, but I want to create my own.

The daytime highs next week will only be in the 40s, but living on the journey and not the destination, I am not paying attention to forecasts like this anymore; I live in the now and enjoy the nice weather while I have it.

When we moved into our home 16 years ago, we found some old glass apple cider jugs in the root cellar. Aside from being something cool to find, they make great piggy banks or, in my case, a vacation fund. 

We’ve been using this jug for our change for as long as I can remember. It helped out a lot when we needed to save money for things when our boys were younger…ski passes, class trip money, etc.

Since the guys are now grown and have jobs, the jug has become Marty and my vacation fund. Namely, a trip to Paris someday. 

I know, of course, some loose change won’t be enough to pay for the trip, but it can pay for our meals, wine, and possibly spending money.

We booked our first trip together in 25 years last February. We finally had the time and money that we saved for a long time. We were so exhausted from the business that we were going to an all-inclusive resort in Playa del Carmen with top-shelf booze and gluten-free friendly to relax. 

Then Covid-19 hit. I was sure last March things would be fine and our trip the last week of April would still happen. Well, we all know it didn’t. 

We booked through an Expedia-type booking agent, and there were no refunds. We didn’t book the just-in-case option; what could happen?

When the trip was canceled, I was sick to my stomach more than disappointed that all of our hard-earned money was gone. Maybe 2 or 3 grand isn’t a lot to some people, but it was a small fortune for us. 😭

Marty tried calling the booking agent every day to see if we could get a refund but kept getting a message that we couldn’t speak to someone until 48 hours before our scheduled trip. The whole world was canceling their trips. 

Finally, Marty got through to someone, and they refunded our resort money entirely, but we had to speak with United Airlines to find out about airfare money. 

United Airlines gave us full credit to be booked by February 2022. We honestly try to pay it forward, volunteer, donate as much as possible, and try to be good people; I felt like we got back a little from the universe with this good news.  

We won’t travel until the pandemic is under control. We have to book the flights by February 2022 but don’t have to use them by then…so we still have time.

Will we go to Paris? Not if Europe isn’t over Covid. A tropical resort? Probably not. We may use the $1,000 in airline credit to go somewhere right here in our country. 

So my loose change jug shattered a month ago when I was putting change in it. It made a mess, and I had to be careful not to get glass shards in my fingers when separating the coins. It sucked and took forever to separate the coins.

Since then I’ve been looking for a new piggy bank and looked on our bar, the huge glass bottle of Jim Beam would be perfect, and is almost empty. 

Yeah, we have a serious bar complete with a real bar refrigerator and a below zero-degree tequila shot dispenser. We don’t fool around when it comes to cocktails. LOL, The bar fridge we purchased second hand for a song and a dance. It ended up coming into our house when we figured out it wouldn’t fit in our production kitchen. 

I still have to roll all the change; I won’t give Coinstar money, which would be lazy. I will not be cashing the coins in for paper money; it’s way too easy to spend that way. I’ll keep the rolls of coins in our safe until the right time comes. At the end of the day, the jug was almost full anyway. This mishap forced me to get rolling sooner than later and polish off that bottle of Jim Beam! 😜

Yesterday, at my farmers market, I was relieved to see my customer Richard after my three-month hiatus. He was doing so much better than the last time I saw him when I worried I would never see him again. I met Richard two summers ago. He suffered a stroke that disrupted his digestive tract, and his wife Kathy was having trouble finding things he could eat.

I was still able to cook up samples of our spätzle sautéed in butter at the market and gave one to Richard. While he was tasting his sample, I gave him and his wife our “spätzle spiel” and told them all about it.

He liked our spätzle, so his wife bought him a package to try at home. Richard became a regular customer since our spätzle was one of the only things his digestive system could tolerate. The first two ingredients in our spätzle are milk and eggs, which make up 50%, giving him some protein that filled him up, plus he loved it. This is the stuff that makes our business feel so worthwhile. 

I got to know Richard pretty well, but the funny thing was, I didn’t know his first name. There comes the point in a relationship with a customer when it’s too late to ask their name; this was one of those times. He shared with me new things he was able to do again while recovering from his stroke each week, and I didn’t know his name. Come on, Julz! Ugh.

Last summer, I finally got up the courage to ask him his name and admit I never asked before. He said, “a lot of people used to know my name.” Next, he told me that he wrote a book called Love letters from Mount Rushmore. He told me he was more proud of his book than his 50-year professional acting career.

So there I was, sweating my ass off on this hot summer day, my sunglasses fogging up from my mask, amazed by what he just told me. His wife joined us; she told me he was in the middle of his second book when he had his stroke. You could tell right away that Richard was upset by this and said, “I’ll finish it when my brain heals.”

I went home and looked up his book; sure enough, there it was, right on Amazon. The book tells of his parent’s love story and the love letters he found in an old trunk in the attic. His father was one of the sculptors working on Mount Rushmore and missed his wife deeply, home in Rochester, NY.

Next, I looked up Richard’s biography and figured out what he meant when he said everyone used to know his name. He was a professional actor that appeared in hundreds of commercials and tv shows that I remembered as a kid. There was even a YouTube video with many clips of his work. He acted with all the big Hollywood stars, but his favorite role was playing a General Hospital villain. Guess what? I knew who his character was, Bill Watson, since I used to watch General Hospital. 

Whenever I visit my mother at the nursing home she lives at, I look at the other residents and wonder who they may have been when they were younger. Sadly, you can’t ever really find out since most have dementia. 

When you see Richard, he is a frail old gentleman struggling to recover from his stroke. Some people may only see him as just that, but behind that frail older man, he IS fascinating and talented, not was.

The next week when I saw him at the farmers market, I said to him, “ Ha, now I know who you are! You were Bill Watson, and I remember you! You are a Hollywood star!” Do you know what he said? “That’s nothing compared to you.” I didn’t know what he meant. “You are a superstar because you make the only thing I can eat .” Well shit…I started crying, and we hugged each other, even during a pandemic. 

It’s the first day of Spring, and what a glorious day it was! Today, I went back to my indoor farmer’s market in Saratoga, NY; I haven’t been to the market since the Saturday before Christmas.

We made the hard decision to keep me home from my market when the covid numbers were spiking in the Saratoga area and were also very high where we live. Vermont’s covid numbers had been relatively low compared to other started before Christmas and ski season.

Since I am immune-compromised and I hate driving in the wintertime, it was a good idea. As it turned out, there were only four Saturdays that there wasn’t yucky, icy weather. Marty didn’t want to risk my health, and I didn’t argue because I knew he was right about staying home.

We decided in mid-February that I would return on March 20. We figured the weather would be better and more people would have been vaccinated. I didn’t know then that I would have received my first vaccine as well, even better.

Last March, when covid literally stopped the world in its tracks, the market moved outdoors in the parking lot of the mall we used for our indoor winter market. Everyone was relieved there would be a market and cooperated with whatever needed to be done. Vendor tents were spaced far apart; hand sanitizer was available to everyone; purchases were set on a separate table, away from everything. Customers put their own credit cards into our square machine, so we didn’t have to touch their cards. Everyone was outstanding about social distancing and wearing their masks.

I know we were feeling afraid, unsure, and anxious, but seeing our regular happy customers be so frightened and freaked out was awful. The market followed the guidelines and mandates week after week because everyone wanted to keep the market open safely for customers. In the summer, once frightened people were getting used to the new “normal” as they began to smile and laugh behind their masks.

The market stayed outside until November and headed back inside the mall. Once again, people were scared to be indoors even though all the vendor booths were adequately spaced apart. Emily and Madison, the market administrator and her assistant, worked hard to make people feel safe at our market. They even started online curbside pick up for customers who didn’t feel comfortable shopping indoors. Some people stated loosening up, while others still had fear in their eyes. They came to our market because they wanted to shop with us instead of going to a supermarket. Customers wanted local food and liked knowing where it came from.

Today I was thrilled to be going back. I left before dawn since I had a couple of deliveries to make before the market. I got to the market early since I didn’t know where I would be setting up. Emily told me I could have my same spot; she didn’t like to move vendors around; it confuses the customers. Yay, Emily; we are super lucky to have her!

The mood of the market today was so different than before. It was lively and had great energy. You could see people smiling and laughing behind here masks again. The look of relief on many shoppers’ faces was priceless. A couple of my customers have been panic-stricken since the pandemic started, and it never let up. I asked one woman back in October how her week was, and she said, “how could it be anything but bad with what’s going on.” I honestly almost cried; it was so sad she felt that way.

The same woman came to my table today with a big smile and handed me her money instead of throwing it on the table like she’s been doing for last year. I asked her how she has been, and she proudly told me she had both of the vaccines. It was wonderful to see her so relieved and happy again.

Customers and vendors were happy to see me, I was ecstatic to see everyone. A lot of my regular customers read in the farmers market newsletter of my return and came to see me.

One of my regular customers named Richard was very ill before Christmas. He had a stroke the year before and was recovering, but something was wrong. I came home from the market that day heartbroken and told Marty that he was really failing. I was afraid he would die.

Over the last three months, I have thought of Richard often; I included him in my prayers and hoped he was ok. Today, he came up to my table with his wife, and he said, “Oh Julz, I’ve been so worried about you; I was hoping and praying you were ok.” I was lost for words; imagine that. I told him I was worried and praying for him too. I noticed he was doing so much better. His wife said he shocked the doctors with his recovery. Thank goodness!

It was fantastic being back; spring was in the air. I missed my customers, and they missed me. Many told me they thought of me and couldn’t wait for me to come back. All the kids that love our spatzle came right up to say hello. What a great thing to hear them say how much they missed me. ☺️

Marty and I are extremely blessed with a successful business and genuine, nice customers who love our spatzle and us very much. This is why we say we are spreading the spatzle love and started the business in the first place. ❤️

Hope penetrated the space at the farmer’s market today. Many people said they could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel and wake up from this horrendous nightmare. Thank goodness!

I sit here in front of my laptop, thinking about what my writing coach Jon said about my blog. He told me I am a natural writer, and I am finding my groove when writing about my blog’s life portion. My posts about food, cooking, and recipes are on point and well done.

Some recent suggestions he made were to improve the actual blog, not the writing. He thinks having archives with different categories is essential, and I should have a stronger search engine for readers to use. He knows that Marty and I set up the blog ourselves, but it may be time to find a web developer for help.

I explained to him that we aren’t able to hire a web designer since the blog has already cost me a lot of money. I had to pay for a domain name and hosting site plus a bunch of other computer stuff. That is when he reminded me that I should ask for financial donations from my readers that enjoy my writing. This is where my dilemma came in. Do I do it or not?

I love writing my blog and have written every day since I launched it in January. The blog takes a lot of time. Writing in-depth recipes for my cooking posts sometimes take 3-4 hours. Marty got me a laptop to be downstairs or eventually outside, not being cooped up in our home office on the second floor.

I have a ton of things that I would like to add to my blog. For my food posts, I would like a “jump to the recipe” button. Readers have suggested having a print button for the recipes as well. For the archives Jon suggested, I would like to have a recipes section, restaurant reviews, and a gluten-free guide of restaurants that offer safe gluten-free choices.

Jon has been a professional writer, reporter, and author his whole life, it’s his career, and he is brilliant at it. On the other hand, I am the co-owner and operator of a commercial food manufacturing company that takes up most of our time. I make time every day to write a blog post and look forward to it very much. I don’t have time to figure out the technical things necessary to improve my blog.

I am not writing this blog as a money-making venture, but Jon tells me repeatedly I should be getting paid for my work.

There is a “support my blog” section at the top of the page, and thus far, I’ve been blessed by a few people who have contributed.

So I guess after a lot of hemming and hawing about it…do it (ask for support) or not? I decided that I do want to improve my blog for my readers and thought fuck it, why not?

I received my first vaccine this morning on St. Patrick’s Day. The green t-shirt that I wore says LUCK which is exactly how I feel. I received the Moderna vaccine and go back for my second dose on April 14th.

I was eligible for my vaccine as a high-risk 55-year-old. I just turned 55 less than three weeks ago, so that is lucky too. 

Growing up not knowing my nationalities sucked on days like St. Patrick’s Day. I was told every year not to worry; everyone is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day. Of course, people who knew they were Irish were the ones who said it. 

That’s all in the past now. Through Ancestry.com, I found out I am 77% Irish, 11% Eastern European, 9% Balkan, and 3% Swedish….as of last night. 

The numbers change whenever I go back to Ancestry after several months. The more people who have done the DNA test and are linked to you can affect the percentages. 

I never imagined I would have that much Irish blood running through my veins, but I do. It makes me happy to finally know where my ancestors came from and what I “am” which I never could answer before. 

St. Patrick’s Day is a huge day for me now. Unless you are adopted, it’s hard to imagine how special it feels to belong to a nationality finally. 💚🍀 🇮🇪