This post is a day late, but I ran out of time yesterday to write. We renovated our backroom/sunroom/mudroom/new pantry back in 2008. I remember because a huge chunk of ice slid off the upper room and came through the mudroom roof. Since we had to renovate anyway, we decided we would make it a 4 season room.
We took out inefficient windows and put in new sliders. Then about 5 years ago, the first set of windows got cloudy. A seal must have broken. Then the same thing happened to the second set, then the third. It sucked that we couldn’t see out the windows well anymore, and it didn’t matter if I cleaned them or not; they always looked like shit.
We decided to see if we could order new windows, not the frames, just the windows. We got the company’s phone number from Home Depot to call ourselves. It was so long ago we weren’t in their system.
Marty called American Glider and got the sweetest mid-western woman on the phone. He explained our situation thinking the windows were out of warranty. She said they weren’t they stand behind their product. We would be receiving 3 new sets of windows for free! We are never lucky like this. Yay!
We got 5 of the 6 windows and installed them right away. Of course, the 6th window is lost; FedEx is trying to track it down. We have to wait on the 3rd window now and keep our fingers crossed the window is found and delivered in one piece.
I guess it doesn’t hurt to ask, something I now believe.
Quick post since I just home from belly dance…Marty took me and picked me up due to the snowstorm. I am so glad I went because all 3 of my new students came even in the snow!
I haven’t written a raw and honest post about myself for months. This post is entirely contradictory while working through the self-realization this week.
Whenever I thought about getting old, I never thought your age mattered. I’ve heard and seen people 10 years younger than me call themselves old men or women.
How you feel mentally and physically makes you feel old or young. I know people 10-20 years older than me that are very young for their age.
So why is that? Your physical health plays a significant role. A body in motion stays in motion, they say. If you are in poor health or horrible physical shape, it can also affect your mental shape.
My biological mother is beautiful and in fantastic shape. She easily looks and acts 20 years younger than she is. It shows on her face and attitude. I think she is gorgeous, and I hope I inherited those genes.
I feel like your age shouldn’t have any effect (within reason, of course) on the way you dress, wear your hair, what kind of activities or music you listen to, or how old your friends are.
Last year, I painfully admitted on my blog how I had been hiding behind my black only wardrobe for more than 10 years. I was ashamed of my post-menopausal body; I hated it.
Whenever I looked in a mirror or saw myself in a photo, all I would see was my thick waist. It made me sick, and I wanted to cry. I body shamed myself every minute of every day.
Last year’s blog posts took me through 6 months of dieting and working out 6 days a week. I figured if I didn’t try my hardest to get my figure back then, I never would. All that work, and I didn’t lose one fucking ounce or inch.
That’s when I finally decided that “this is me. This was who I am meant to be; this is me.” This is a line from one of the songs from one of my favorite movies, The Greatest Showman.
After that, I said fuck it and went out and bought some new clothes. I added colorful pieces to my black wardrobe. People noticed right away; they said color looked good on me.
Ok, so I just wrote age shouldn’t affect how you feel. I also said I needed to accept myself for who I am. But, I was still holding on to more shame.
For the last 7 or so years, I was disgusted by the crepey skin on my neck. I started noticing age spots on my body and hands. It put me into panic mode, and I went in search of creams and moisturizers promising to have younger-looking skin in as little as two weeks. Bullshit! I wasted a lot of money.
I have always taken good care of my skin, so I felt betrayed by my body. Every time I looked in the mirror or a photo, just like seeing my thick waist, all I saw were wrinkles. It was mortifying!
That was until this past week. I watched a tv show where hair designer and grooming expert Jonathan Van Ness was working with a 58-year-old woman.
I saw myself in the way this woman saw herself. She was afraid to look old and went to great lengths to hide it. She was petrified by it, as was I.
BeforeAfterPhotos credit Queer Eye of Terri.
Jonathan told her that getting old is a privilege that many don’t get. He talked about the importance of acceptance and how gorgeous she was inside and out.
His client was pretty and in great shape, teaching dance and working on her farm with horses. She had a gorgeous figure with nice boobs and great legs. Sadly, she didn’t see that when she looked in the mirror.
What she did see was thinning hair and wrinkles. She dressed too young and trashy and wore a wig that she denied throughout the show. She wore lots of makeup, trying to look younger, making her appear older. She was ashamed and was afraid to trust Jonathan.
She didn’t entirely trust him by the end of the show, but he left with advice and the tools she needed, including a hair club type of cap to help regrow her hair, making it thicker again.
BeforeA year laterPhoto credit Queer Eye.
The show went back and checked on her a year later. They usually check back sooner but couldn’t because covid hit and stopped everyone dead in their tracks, including their show Queer Eye.
They found a younger-looking woman wearing cute clothing accentuating her knock-out figure with her natural hair. Jonathan told her how brave she was to step out from under the wig and trust him. Her hair looked beautiful, and she looked 100 times better.
I cried when I watched the end of the show. I was so happy for Terri. I didn’t expect how my feelings about myself started to change. All it took was a Facebook selfie the next day that appeared in my memories from 10 years ago.
I looked at the photo and thought, well, shit, I pretty much look the same. I showed it to Marty, and he told me I did look the same. He pulls no punches with me, so I believed him.
20122022I tried to recreate my pose and can’t believe I nailed it so closely. I couldn’t duplicate the lighting since the before was taken with my old Ipad at night with different lights before we updated the bathroom. My eyebrows are thinner as of only two weeks ago, which is the only real difference.
I had those same wrinkles back when I felt good about myself. Maybe I didn’t look as old as I thought. Perhaps people focused on my smile, personality, deep voice, or hair?
So that’s it. That’s what it took. I have worked my way to think that I look and feel young for my age. Maybe people aren’t blowing smoke up my ass when they say I look like I am in my 40s and not 56.
As you read this post, some of you may think, “that will never happen to me.” This post may resonate with some of you that feel the same as me, whether it’s wrinkles, excess weight, or hair loss. Some may think it’s ridiculous to be worried about appearances in the first place, or “who is she kidding; she does look old.”
Whatever the case, I wanted to share another step on my journey with you. Another tough post for me to write like the “This is me” one from last year. If you would like to read it, click on the underlined link.
I wrote today while we are on the road making deliveries and picking up some Trex decking boards at a bargain barn surplus place for a small deck we will be building to get in and out of the pool easier.
Thanks for being on this journey with me. ❤️
***Marty pointed out I spelled waist as waste. I fixed it. Thanks auto correct for that little gem!
The yard at 2 pm now most of the snow is completely melted! Yipee!
Some blog posts are easy to write, especially the food ones; the words flow freely. Writing about when we are out and about is also easy. So is belly dance, but some posts are harder to write. Whenever I try to force a blog post, it sucks, and I delete it.
I follow my friend Jon’s advice about only writing if you have something to write about. Don’t write just for the sake of writing. It’s ok to take a day or two as a break and then return refreshed.
When I write a post, I let it simmer for a bit before I hit the publish button. When I reread what I wrote, I find mistakes that I missed while editing and correcting them. Sometimes I left out some crucial details that wrap up the story better. Sometimes I hit the delete button.
It doesn’t happen too often, deleting a post before I publish it, but it does happen. Those posts are ones that I write when I am tired, cranky, or annoyed about something. A couple of them have slipped through the cracks, and I’ve regretted them. I don’t delete a post once it’s published; what’s written has already been read. I learn from my mistakes.
Earlier today, while I was sitting on our back deck enjoying the sunshine and 68-degree temperatures, I wrote. I wrote for an hour. Marty joined me, and I saw his reaction as I talked about my piece. It was a negative post. I didn’t intend it to be, but it was. I hit the delete button. Fuck! What a waste of time, I thought.
I started thinking about my post and figured there are so many terrible things happening in our world right now to innocent people; I have no right to complain about anything. Nothing is significant when I think about it like that. Then I took some time to concentrate on positive energy for the world instead of sending out negativity.
I told Marty I deleted my post. He said good and suggested I write about deleted posts. That would be a good topic, he said. So here I am writing about it.
After talking with Marty, I started focusing on the beautiful weather, and I could grill tonight without snow on the deck! I didn’t have to wear boots or even a coat. It was fantastic! The serving platter didn’t freeze, and I brought a glass of wine outside with me. I know it’s still only March, but today reminded me that spring is just around the corner. ☺️
I decided to make a loaf of Irish soda bread to take to the farmer’s markets tomorrow morning for breakfast. Breakfast is a challenge every week trying to figure out what to bring since there isn’t anything available for breakfast.
Sometimes we have a GF bagel or muffin that we get at Trader Joe’s. Over the summer, I was making us breakfast burritos along with breakfast sandwiches. I made banana bread a couple of weeks ago. Last week, we only had a banana with peanut butter at the complimentary breakfast at the hotel in Schenectady. We had to leave for the market before the hot breakfast items were ready.
Even though St. Patrick’s Day isn’t for another two weeks, I decided to make a loaf of soda bread anyway. Then I remembered I wrote about it last year. You may think it’s easy to remember what I wrote a year ago, but after writing over 300 blog posts, I can’t remember if it was something in my head or that I wrote and published.
I went to google and searched Irish soda bread Julzie Style. Ha! Last year’s blog post and recipe were right there. I could have just as easily gone to the blog site, but it’s more fun for me to see my stuff pop up on google.
The title of the post was “Any day Irish soda bread.” By clicking on the underlined link, you can read my post last year and check out the recipe.
I got out the ingredients I needed for the soda bread and was surprised just how quick and easy the recipe was. Sometimes, I have to go to our VT Spätzle Company website to find a recipe I wrote and published there. Usually, it’s just to remind me what in the hell I did the last time I baked or cooked a dish.
I went with traditional Irish soda bread today. When I read the “with options” part, I wish I had made lemon poppyseed or cranberry orange. Like the blog post is titled, it is ANY day Irish soda bread. That means I can make a different one next week!
The beautiful thing about a loaf of soda bread is that it freezes nicely. I cut mine in half wrap it in saran wrap, then aluminum foil. This is a beautiful thing; when I am in a hurry trying to figure out breakfast, all I have to do is pull it out of the freezer to defrost.
I mentioned earlier this week I am trying to use up my winter stash of pantry items, so I decided on boneless chicken breast stuffed with stuffing. I breaded them in breadcrumbs and will bake them the way I bake my chicken cordon bleu. Take a look at the recipe; the only thing I did differently for today’s recipe is roll-up stuffing instead of ham and cheese. I will be making a chicken velouté sauce, aka chicken gravy, instead of the dijon sauce.
Photo of my recipe since I didn’t have time to retype it.Photo of the sauce.
What’s the difference between a velouté sauce and gravy, you may ask? Well, guess what? I wrote about it last year in a blog post titled “Hello mother sauce.” Click on the link if you are interested. I love that I can share things you may have missed without writing about them again. Yahoo!
It’s hard to believe it’s been a week since we went and saw Waitress at Proctors Theater. On Monday, I got a huge birthday surprise that included 2 Broadway tickets to my favorite show, round trip train tickets, and a night in a boutique hotel right around the corner from Richard Rodgers Theatre! I will be writing about it later this month, right before we head down to the city. I am so excited!
Last year I took a stab at making manicotti with homemade pasta sheets. That isn’t a big deal if you use regular flour, but since I had to make gluten-free pasta, my sheets fell apart.
When life hands you lemons or, in my case, ripped pasta sheets, you make lasagna. Manicotti is like rolled-up lasagna anyway!
As I’ve mentioned before, my parents grew up in the Peterstown section of Elizabeth, NJ, and I lived in Elizabeth until I was 9. Then we moved Iselin or to the “country,” as my father’s family referred to it. By the way, it is one of the most densely populated areas in NJ, along with the most traffic.
It is where the Garden State Parkway, NJ Thruway, Routes 1, 9, and 27, and 287 meet. Traffic out the ass is one of the reasons we moved to VT and to get away from my family. A true story there.
Where I grew up, people spoke Jersey or New York Italian, which differs from how others pronounce Italian words. To me, it was normal. I grew up speaking this way; when I moved to VT, no one had a damn clue what I was “tawking” about.
I found a great read on nj.com about speaking Jersey Restaurant Italian which you can read about here. It’s 💯 so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
For the rest of this blog post, I will write the Italian words the way I say them, so you get the idea.
I made mani-gott this morning for dinner after belly dance classes. I had a big ass tub of ri-gott to use up and have been craving either ravioli or mani-gott.
I am craving ravioli because I found a YouTube video that included the one and only Tony Spirito making Spiritos famous ravioli. If you want an authentic experience of Peterstown and the people who still live there, watch this YouTube link. You will believe me now. I felt a little homesick when I watched it. And hungry.
I decided to use those no-boil lasagna sheets; I had a box of Barilla gluten-free ones in the pantry. This is the time of the year I try to use up the pantry shit I stored for the winter.
I first made a quick pot of marinara sauce, not a Sunday sauce with meat that cooks all day.
Next, I softened the lasagna sheets by soaking them in boiling water until they were pliable.
Then, I made the mani-gott filling. I used ri-gott, parmesan, and moozarell cheeses. I added a couple of eggs, some parsley, kosher salt, and peppers; it had a beautiful creamy consistency.
After an hour, I put some on the bottom of a roasting pan when the sauce was done. Then, I started making the mani-gott.
Mani-gott are usually longer than mine since I had to turn them in the other direction to roll them up. No big deal.
I used a scoop of the ri-gott filing for each pasta sheet and rolled them up. I placed them in the roasting pan like soldiers.
I covered the mani-gott with some sauce. Not too much or too little. You don’t want your mani-gott to be swimming in sauce or too dry.
I sprinkled some moozarell on top, covered the pan with foil, and popped it into a 375-degree oven for 30 minutes. I took the foil off and let the cheese brown for 10 more minutes.
It smells delicious in here. Now, all we have to do is reheat the mani-gott at 8:30 pm when I get home from dance. Mmmmmm!
Here’s a recipe for mani-gott that is pretty damn close to my freeball method, which isn’t quite as fancy. You can use dried mani-gott tubes you can find at an Italian market or specialty store, or you can use pasta sheets as I did. GF people use the Barilla GF kind. I think the pasta sheets are easier to fill than the tubes.
This is a perfect dish for Ash Wednesday or Fridays during Lent. This is not why I chose today to make the mani-gott; I just wanted it. My family is lucky when I wake up with specific food cravings since it’s always something everyone likes.
I pulled the mani-gott out of the oven and let it cool for a bit. I took one for the team and carefully pried the first one out of the pan (the first one is the hardest to get out) for a photo; ok for a “little taste.” Was it good? Forgetaboutit!
Have a great day; we are already halfway through the week. 😉
Today is my birthday! I went back yesterday to see what I wrote about last year…food. No surprise there. I’ve mentioned my favorite birthday dinners from when I was a kid; last year, I wrote about my favorite dinner when I was a teenager, Veal Oscar, that I had at the Shadowbrook Restaurant in Shrewsbury, NJ.
Once I read last year’s blog post, I decided to make a version of veal oscar using pork instead of veal this year. Veal Oscar is one of those fabulous lost old school dishes that adorned menus back in the day, along with Steak Diane, Beef Wellington, and Lobster Thermador.
Veal Oscar is a culinary creation served for the first time on September 18, 1897, and said to have been named in honor of Sweden’s King Oscar II, who was especially partial to its ingredients. The dish consists of sautéed veal cutlets topped with crab (or occasionally lobster) meat, and an emulsified butter sauce such as Hollandaise or Béarnaise. Traditionally Veal Oscar is garnished with 2 white asparagus spears, In modern times, the dish is often made with steak. Wikipedia.
Marty took me out to breakfast this morning; then, I hit the supermarket to pick up the ingredients for dinner. I purchased a package of boneless pork chops, asparagus, and two frozen lobster tails.
When we got home, I did my mise en place for dinner. I pounded the pork chops thinly, making them now scaloppini. Scaloppine is a type of Italian dish that comes in many forms. It consists of thinly sliced or pounded meat such as beef, veal, chicken, or pork that is dredged in flour and sautéed in one of a variety of sauces. Wikipedia.
I cut the ends off the asparagus and blanched in salt water, then shocked in cold water. I made a quick poaching liquid or court-bouillon for the lobster tail. I pulled them out, let them cool, and then removed the lobster meat.
I made béarnaise sauce, one of the mother sauces, and set it aside in the double boiler bowl to be reheated later.
I made wild rice as a side dish and used my rice cooker for ease. I threw in the rice, water, and a bunch of seasonings, salt, and pepper. I turned it on and knew it would be perfect in an hour. This is one of the only small appliances I use weekly.
Finally, I made my cherry pie. I made a homemade gluten-free pie crust but didn’t have it in me to make the cherry filling from scratch as I usually do. It wasn’t my prettiest pie, but it looks ok. I picked up some vanilla ice cream to serve with the pie.
Dinner came together quickly. It took 5 minutes to sauté the pork scaloppine; I promptly sautéed the asparagus and lobster meat in butter while reheating the béarnaise sauce.
I plated chef style tonight, making everyone’s plate for them the way I wanted it to be presented on the plate. I plated it the traditional way with the scaloppine on the bottom topped with asparagus, then lobster, and finished with béarnaise sauce.
It was nice that Noah came over after work, and the four of us could celebrate my birthday by having dinner together. Everyone loved the meal; I was happy with how it came out; it was restaurant quality. Yay!
For dessert, the cherry pie came out better than I initially thought, satisfying the craving that I’ve had since Saturday night.
Thanks to everyone who wished me Happy Birthday either on Facebook, Instagram, text, email, or on my blog. You all know how to make a girl feel special. 🥰
The last time I wrote, I was worried about a snowstorm. As it turned out, I worried for nothing. The snowstorm didn’t dump nearly as much as initially forecasted and didn’t hinder our overnight trip to Schenectady at all.
The storm started winding down just as we were leaving Friday around noon. We had our overnight bags packed, cases of spätzle to deliver, and our farmer’s markets coolers ready to go for Saturday morning; then, we hit the road.
The ride was slower than usual since the roads were still snow-covered. Our first stop was the Honest Weight Food Co-op in Albany to drop off their three cases of spätzle. While we were on the Northway, I saw my first rolling roadblock, snow plowing. I have to say this is genius! Four trucks plowed the entire highway at once, leaving all four lanes snow plowed instead of one lane at a time. Brillant!
I am always stressed out when we are traveling on snowy roads; the only thing I could think of was finding a Bloody Mary somewhere in Schenectady to help my shoulders come back down from up around my ears.
We decided to check-in and park at the hotel before doing anything. After we parked, we saw the Backstage Pub 50 yards away from the parking lot. We didn’t know what to expect; I really didn’t care what the place was like; I just knew I wanted a Bloody Mary.
I haven’t frequented bars, especially during the day, in a long time. I forgot how much I like walking into a dimly lit bar and finding that perfect bar stool. In my case, the perfect bar stool is right on the corner of the bar.
The queen of Bloody Marys!
We had a fantastic young and beautiful female bartender who was very good at her job. I ordered a Bloody Mary with all the “stuff,” and Marty got a fresh berry tequila cocktail. I let out a “Holy shit!” when I saw my drink. It was exactly what I wanted and more. Marty’s drink was gorgeous, fresh, and delicious. I forgot to take a photo of his; I was so over the moon over my drink.
My favorite kind of salad in a glass.
I would consider this Bloody Mary the equivalent of a salad. A healthy salad at that too! Let me break it down for you. My salad drink contained potatoes from the vodka, tomatoes, horseradish, cucumbers, olives, two different hot peppers, cheese, and bacon. I have to say this was the best Bloody Mary I ever had.
These tacos had the thinnest corn tortilla we’ve ever had and stayed together. I rolled my tacos up like a cigar to eat it.
It was already 2 pm, so we didn’t want to eat anything too big since we would have an early dinner before the show. We picked corn tacos with braised brisket, creamy coleslaw, and sriracha. I completely trusted the bartender when she checked with the kitchen if the tacos were gluten-free, something I don’t always do.
My first bite of the taco may have been the best taco bite to date. Everything was balanced with some nice heat. The brisket wasn’t fatty or chewy; the coleslaw had the perfect amount of creaminess to cool down the sriracha. I told Marty that if these tacos ended up making me sick, I didn’t give a fuck; they were that good.
Fortunately, they didn’t make me sick, hallelujah! I will be thinking about these tacos for a long time. They are not a regular menu item, just a special, so I probably won’t be able to have them again.
I had a good buzz on from the Bloody Mary as we walked across the snowy parking lot back to the hotel. We stopped to help push a car out of the driveway, something we always did in Jersey when someone was stuck in the snow. I felt 12 again!
As soon as we got into the hotel room, I yanked off my snowy clothes, jumped into bed, and took a restful nap. Good thing I set the alarm because I am not sure how long I would have slept I was that comfortable.
As I showered and got ready for dinner, Marty made a reservation for an Asian fusion restaurant right across the street that assured him they could prepare us gluten-free food without worry. Good!
Dinner at Zen was ok. The location was perfect. I loved the decor. The hibachis shrimp and vegetables were meh but didn’t make us sick and filled us up. The best part was Proctors Theater was right across the street.
From my seat, I could see Proctors and the hotel.
The Broadway show Waitress was so good! We knew the music and storyline, but I wasn’t expecting to love the play this much. It was witty and funny. The singing and acting were dead on. It made me tear up a couple of times. It had everything that makes up a great show.
We were grateful we stayed only two doors down since the show got over at 11 pm. We played with the idea of hitting one of the bars for a nightcap, but we had an early wake-up call in the morning to get up for the farmer’s market. I should have gone out because I tossed and turned all night like I usually do whenever I am away.
The streets were still slick and snow-covered in areas on our way to the market. The streets and parking for customers with the snowbanks made me think the market would be slow. It was quiet, long, and felt like being in a refrigerator for seven hours.
Saturday nights, I don’t want to cook anything elaborate. A gorgeous bowl of spaghetti, a salad, and a glass of wine is usually what I fall back on. Yes, we make our pasta as a business, but it’s either all gone or has been flash-frozen and in the freezer on Saturday nights. I keep Schar gluten-free spaghetti on hand for these kinds of nights.
I decided on spaghetti with tomato and creamy ricotta sauce, caesar salad, and a glass of red wine. It hit the spot. This morning I slept until 9:45 am, making up for the lack of sleep the night before. I woke up feeling refreshed, which rarely happens.
Parisian crepes with Meyer lemon simple syrup.
I woke up craving French crepes that I topped with a Meyer-lemon simple syrup. It was so light and bright on a cold morning. This dish makes me think about having breakfast on the back deck in the summertime.
The stage at Waitress.
I am relaxing today and deciding what I want to make for dinner for my birthday tomorrow. The curtain on the stage of Waitress was a humongous cherry pie, so that is what I will be making instead of a birthday cake. If we are ever on a game show together, and the question is, what is my favorite pie? It is cherry.
In the middle of last year, Marty ordered us tickets to the Broadway hit musical comedy, Waitress, performing at Proctor’s Theater in Schenectady, NY. We have tickets for tonight’s show!
In 2018 & 2019, we did the Sunday Schenectady Farmer’s Market, which was held outside in the summer season and in Proctor’s Theater during the wintertime. The theater is beautiful, making you feel like you’ve stepped back in time. The lobby and film theater were modern.
Week after week, we watched excited show-goers arrive at Proctors for a matinee show. Great shows, Broadway shows still appearing on Broadway, and holiday shows like the Nutcracker. I love the Nutcracker and danced in it when I was little.
We decided to stop doing the Schenectady market, which was hard for us because we liked the customers and vendors at the market. We realized that we couldn’t keep working seven days a week as we had for two years.
We began to burn out. I started resenting the customers who would tell me they were going home to curl up on their couch and watch football or Netflix. Others were going to a Sunday dinner or just came from church or brunch. I started to become jealous of the theatergoers. Yes, we were building a new and thriving business, but we had zero life, and it sucked.
In 2020, we got tickets to Proctors to the Broadway musical Frozen. The theater was even more grand and beautiful than I imagined. The show was incredible. We haven’t been to a broadway show in decades; we were amazed at the lights and effects. We were living our lives again! It felt fantastic. Then fucking covid hit.
Covid made us realize how much time we wasted not doing shit even more. Shit, we wanted to do. We had kids, dogs, bills, a business, and responsibilities to our aging parents. All we did was wait and wait. Wait for what? All I could think was we were knuckleheads during the lockdown and closures. We vowed when we got out of this pandemic; things would change.
We still have our business, bills, grown kids, dogs, and responsibilities but are slowly managing to go places and do things we want to, like going to Vegas in September or buying a pool. We put so many things on hold for so long we have a lot of catching up to do.
I’ve been stressed out all week every time I looked at the weather forecast for today, Friday, the day of the show. A big snowstorm was coming. What if we couldn’t go?
We have tickets to the show, a free hotel room with our Hilton Honors club points two doors down from Proctors. A plan to pack up our farmer’s market supplies and product for the market Saturday morning, which is only 20 minutes away. We found a restaurant with a great gluten-free menu, someone to let the dogs out at bedtime while Sam will be working in the ER tonight.
What could go wrong? Nothing Marty said. Fuck it. A little snow isn’t going to close down the show or the hotel. The farmer’s market is never canceled due to the weather. We were going, and everything was going to be okay. He’s right everything will be alright. It even looks like the snowstorm may be winding down earlier than expected.
Happy Friday! I’ll let you know how everything turns out. ☺️
Quick post after production while I am scoffing down leftovers for lunch; it’s errands and dance day! Yip! I am always excited to go to belly dance tonight I will be teaching my new students three flamenco turns.
For the last couple of days here in Vermont, we have had our January thaw and a glimpse of spring. Mother Nature can be cruel by teasing us like this when we have a big snowstorm on Thursday into Friday. Right now, they are predicting about a foot of snow. Just when we got to see the grass again!
I always put up my Christmas lights on a November day in the 50s. I take them down whenever I can during the winter on a warm day. Yesterday was that day.
I’ve learned over the years to pay close attention when I am taking down Christmas stuff—taking it down, wrapping the lights in neat bundles, and separating them from the company sign or the railing.
Seems like a no-brainer, but I can tell you there have been years that took everything and put it away haphazardly only to curse myself the following November. I learn from my mistakes, even if it takes me a couple of times.
The muddy area is where we will be building a small deck to get in and out of the pool. The ladder didn’t cut it.
Have a great rest of your day! It’s in the 50s again today, but the temperature is supposed to drop dramatically by evening with a low of 12 degrees. 🥶
We had our friends from DC, David & Arthur, over for dinner last night. As soon as they accepted my invitation, I started planning the menu. I’ve cooked regular dinner for them before and wanted to try something different.
I’ve wanted to serve a tasting menu for a long time, thinking there is no time like the present. Plus, I got to do it in my updated kitchen. They were the first people to see it in person.
Marinated assorted olives and cheese.
I wanted the menu to be progressive, building from course to course. The cuisine was going to be Italian since it was my favorite thing to cook. Different items started popping into my head, so I got out my cooking composition pad and started menu planning.
I can still see my dad sitting at our kitchen table, leafing through his cookbooks whenever he was planning a gourmet dinner for friends. He had a notebook to make his shopping list while picking out recipes, just like I do. My dad was way ahead of his time, culinarily speaking, and he didn’t even know it. His friends raved about his food.
Cold shrimp scampi is a shrimp salad and not scampi that was chilled.
My dad mise en platzed all of his ingredients and prepped them the night before or the morning of the dinner party. I loved watching his prep and cook. He always had on music and whistled along to the songs. I always have music on when I cook; I just don’t whistle.
The sad thing for me was watching him cook, serve and eat with his friends; I never got to eat or try any of it. Why would a 9-year-old want to try gourmet food was probably their thinking.
One thing for sure, he was thrilled and “on” whenever he was hosting a dinner party. He hosted it; my mother was happy to sit and watch, talk and smoke cigarettes all night. When my mother was happy, everyone was happy.
Cooking is in my blood; my biological siblings love to cook as well. One of my brothers is a chef. My other brother Dan does all the shopping and cooking for his family. My sister Jen loves to cook and menu plans weekly, just like I do. We are constantly sending each other recipes we make.
Creamy parsnip soup with fried parsnips.
Learning to menu plan, mise en platz, and entertain came from my adopted father. His mother, Mema, loved to cook and entertain as well. My love of cooking and entertaining is a combination of nurture vs nature in every sense of the word.
When I start planning a menu, I write down several choices, knowing I will weed out an option or two. Below the menu, I create a shopping list of ingredients I need for the menu. In a new column, I write down tasks within a timeline of items I can make or prep ahead and what I have to finish that night.
Next, I visualize what type of serving vessels I want to use for each course. For this tasting menu, I used lots of small white dishes that I save for dinners such as this one.
Here is the menu from last night:
~ Marinated assorted olives and cubed provolone cheese ~ Cold shrimp scampi on Chinese spoons ~ Creamy parsnip soup garnished with fried parsnips served in espresso cups ~ Crostini with whipped ricotta, blistered tomatoes, & basil with a balsamic glaze. ~ Italian stuffed mushrooms ~ Mini eggplant stacks ~ Kaluha brownie and cheesecake trifles in a glass
I do the shopping a few days ahead. I also get out the serving pieces and dishes I will be using. Then I prep things that can be prepped ahead—doing all of these days before can make the evening of entertaining stress-free and enjoyable. I can cook and entertain on the fly and have pulled some good meals out of my ass.
We had such a fun evening with the guys next door; I am glad they were the first people I got to cook for in the new kitchen. Cooking in front of people makes me happy; watching them eat makes me happier!
Crostini topped with whipped roasted garlic ricotta, blistered tomatoes topped with basil, and balsamic glaze.
This morning, I went online in search of dinner ideas. I am in a winter-time cooking rut. The slowly braised meats, stew, and soups are getting old. All I can think about now is cooking and grilling in my outdoor kitchen. I can’t wait to continue my lessons in smoking meats and bbq. I was starting to understand the principals last year. I can admit nothing that I made on the smoker was anything good—goals for this bbq season.
Italian stuffed mushrooms.
Everything seems easier to me when the weather gets warm. The food is fresh, the prep is less, and I don’t have to put on winter boots and dredge through the snow on the deck to get to our grill as I had to the other night. I love being barefoot and not being cold while I am grilling.
Mini eggplant stacks.
It’s been so cold some nights I’ve grilled this winter that the serving platter I was using for the finished meat was frozen, or I had nowhere to put it down because all the countertops were covered in ice and snow. I have to leave the platter in the house until I can pull the meat off the grill. I took my boots off to get it and put them back on to get the meat. Ugh!
Today the sun is shining, and it’s 52 degrees here in Vermont. I planned on making either Sweet & Sour or Mongolian Chicken Meatballs with Jasmine Rice and Garlic Sesame Snap Peas, but that can wait for tomorrow night. The grill is calling my name, so I pulled pork tenderloin out of the freezer and will make that instead.
Mini kaluha brownie and cheesecake trifles.
It’s back into production tomorrow, and it’s going to be another big one since orders have been flying in all weekend. It’s supposed to be in the ’50s, but rainy with flood watches on Tuesday and Wednesday. Today is definitely a grilling day! ☀️
