Category Archives: Education

Surprise!

Being in the hinterlands, I have some items brought to my door weekly, including milk,eggs, bacon, sausage, butter, breads and sometime a surprise box. It used to be all organic. In the harsh winters that is difficult to do here.

Today I used a huge butternut squash, and an apple from last week’s treasures. I roasted the squash with an onion for an hour with olive oil, salt and pepper. Then I turned the squash and put them atop the oven to cool. The onions were not done enough so I cut them down further and sauteed them with apple pieces. I also toasted garam masala in a dry pan to add to the soup as needed.

I first used the food processor to mix the onions and apples, that had gotten a dose of chicken broth to hasten their softening. Then I processed the pulp of the butternut squash I’d taken off the skin with a spoon, with more chicken broth.

The pulps were added to a large pot and started to boil and sputter almost immediately. I added more broth and 1/3 of the curry seasoning. More broth, then some fresh apple juice I happened to have on hand and more of the curry seasoning. About 1/4 cup of heavy cream and the rest of the curry seemed to work. I added a bit of salt, pepper and cayenne and we were good to go.

This is why I don’t write recipes for you, or copy others. Sometimes I want to give you a great recipe but will be sued for doing so.

Perhaps my age allows me to create whatever culinary confections that come to mind. And we all know a mind is a terrible thing to waste. Cheers, Dee

Essential Pantry

I notice that a lot of cooks are doing this now, telling viewers or readers one thing at a time about how to build a pantry.

Confession: I was so scared to start writing this blog I worked for weeks getting together my essential cookbook collection and then the pantry collection. I believe cookbooks spanned four episodes and the pantry, five, but no-one reads them. No-one refers to them and I wish you would.

Please let me know how I can make these integral pages a meaningful part of your life. Yes, I have to redo my home page and will do so to make it easier for you to access this information. Signing off for now, Dee

Food Poisoning

I was sick all day yesterday. It wasn’t the flu. I went over what I ate and forgot that I always cook/make my own lunch and I was running really late so picked up a sandwich and took it home, five minutes from checkout to opening the sandwich. Jim always says we never become ill eating my food.

There is no cross-contamination in our kitchen, and I wash my hands every time it’s needed. If I could nail it to a slice of turkey (cooked to the wrong temperature or left out too long) or shred of lettuce (prep cook didn’t wash hands) I’d do so but can’t, only know what I ate the last 24 hours and that my husband wasn’t sick.

Yes, we do have favorite restaurants that are very mindful of their ingredients and preparation (and, I hope, storage). We don’t normally get to see those kitchens but enjoy the results of their creative efforts. In the meantime I’m at the stove, frig and pantry for our family’s needs. Hope you are as well! Cheers, Dee

Netflix Picks

Jim’s still moping around sick, and hasn’t shaved in three days. My work here is stymied and we’re not going anywhere this weekend so one of my instant picks on Netflix (one you don’t have to get in the mail) was Food, Inc.

It is a highly educational, sad, frightening look at most of the foods we eat today and the few companies who grow them, all of the institutional food companies denied interviews. We get a lot of our food locally through farmers markets six months of the year and through a local delivery company year-round. We even get fresh milk in glass (returnable) bottles, eggs, bacon, sausage, apple juice (unfiltered and fresh-squeezed) and orange juice delivered to our door weekly.

One thing I learned is that our food supply is not safe and the Feds are doing nothing about it; the second is harder to get through this thick skull, that if we consumers demand change, changes will be made. And enact Michael’s Law, which would allow (hopefully impel) the FDA to crack down on repeat health code violators who give salmonella and e coli to customers, sickening some and killing others.

The quality (or lack thereof) of the food we eat has a direct result on our wallets, our health, our future, our world. Good viewing, Dee

Reservationist

I’m already not loving Chicago, as this is the first time I’ve heard that term. What it means is that there is a human on the other end of the phone line telling you there’s no way you can get a table for two at this restaurant with several weeks notice. Then there’s the online option which tells you that you might have an opportunity for a table next May, on a Tuesday at 4:30 p.m.

And then there’s Grant Achatz, did I say a** hole? He sells pre-paid tix for dinner and you have to reserve in advance to get notice of tix becoming available and be e-mailed to pay for the opportunity.

Hey, it’s food, dudes. I say that also to Ms. Izard of Girl and the Goat, which has a months-long waiting list. We all need food every day. Ms. Izard graced these pages after she won Top Chef. Now I can’t get into Topolobampo, Charlie Trotter’s, Girl and the Goat, or anything else I’ve researched since we got our plane tix for our first view of Chicago, the city we may call home someday. It’s good to know we’re welcome, even to perhaps live in 850 sf with no closets, laundry or garage for $4K per month. Thanks, windy city! I hate that I wrote an entire paper on you in fifth grade quoting Sandburg.

I guess it’s down to Chicago dogs and deep dish pies. Forget the fancy dining. We’ll stay in a 4.5 star hotel and eat hot dogs. Hey, the hotel is $81 per night. Can’t argue with that. As for the race for the top dining experience and its quest to keep people away, go for it. In this economy your guests are probably lighting their cubans with hundred-dollar bills. Cheers, Dee

Blue Skies

Just as I’ve always loved Frank Sinatra, I always wanted to sing like Rosemary Clooney. My parents had an album of hers, Mono of course, that I had to bring to school for some kind of project. Mom saw a hint of cleavage on the album cover so covered it up with masking tape with my name on the tape.

My favorite moment on screen was in White Christmas with Bing Crosby, talking about liverwurst and buttermilk and singing about counting your blessings instead of sheep.

I didn’t know that 80′s pop icon Debbie Boone was married to her son until now, and as she and her father have wonderful voices I can’t wait to hear her tribute to her late mother-in-law. Rosemary Clooney, I met her once in Four Girls Four with Rose Marie and Helen O’Connell. When I think of her I’ll always see her at the piano with Bing singing White Christmas. So, get your decorations going, we expect a tree and a red velvet gown with white fur trim for caroling. Let’s get this holiday season rolling! I’ll start by counting my blessings instead of sheep, Dee

Surprise!

I graduated from college thirty years ago. For 34 years I have known a man, my advisor and department head and inspirational professor. Out of the blue, today he called to wish me a happy thanksgiving. No he didn’t ask for a gift to the annual fund! Fr. Cap is definitely my favorite priest. I wanted him to marry us but the whole Catholic thing (my husband is not Catholic) got in the way. Plus we eloped, with four days notice and he was 3,000 miles away.

He’s been ill of late but is in good spirits and doing much better, helping out in the campus church and elsewhere. It is so good to hear from old friends and mentors over the holidays. I don’t go back for reunions, I just told him I’m not much for seeing who aged better, who got a tummy tuck, whatever. I’d rather just go quietly and see the people who meant something to me during those formative years. I nearly forgot that my desire for internal “beauty” is much stronger than that for a pretty external shell and that is probably a direct result of his teachings. Yes, the infamous “Barbie” lecture that mesmerized students for decades. It was his trademark and rightly so.

After teaching us dumb kids all year, he’d go out west and help at the Hopi reservation. Atop a room full of bookshelves was an array of papooses, a funny thing for a Catholic priest to have on display.

There are so many people I am thankful to have in my life this Thanksgiving, and I just got a call from one of them. God bless you, Fr. Cap. Cheers, Dee

I Love You, Son

If you don’t know, my in-laws got in a bad car wreck late last week and my father-in-law has been in the hospital awaiting surgery for several days. Back surgery, pins and rods et al. Tonight I was on a call with his eldest son, my husband, and he said “I love you, son, I’m proud of you.” We got off the call and called Jim’s younger brother, who lives nearer by so can stop by the hospital from time to time.

I was very upset as I thought with those words my stronger than Superman father-in-law had given up. Both my husband and brother assured me that he says that all the time. I grew up in a family where a 98% on a test brought on questions about why I couldn’t have done better. An A? Why not an A-Plus? My mother has been gone two years now but a year before she died she told me I should have never been born, that I was never invited to any family holiday but only crashed them.

While that crushed my soul I still sat by her bedside at hospice even though the only words she said to me that week were “get me some water, please.” I should be grateful for the “please.” I got her a priest and fought my siblings to allow her to make that decision through the hospice chaplain. That’s another story.

No-one ever said I love you, daughter, and am proud of you. My family never touched, except for us kids to provoke each other on car trips. From the day my husband and I met nearly ten years ago we link arms or hold hands on the street, and always say we love each other, at least several times a day.

His family is actually happy we met and married even though we have not been able to provide them grandchildren. I know that my husband loves me, my father loves me and we’ll go from there. My husband and his brother are lucky to have grown up on a dairy farm, worked hard but their parents wanted them to go to college and not work on the farm. Their love and pride drives their sons’ lives today and makes all of us want to do anything to help out after this setback. Surgery is on the calendar after some complications are resolved, and there will be months of rehabilitation. I love these people. They took me in as family, Jim’s Nanny took me in as her grand-daughter because I’ve never known a grandmother.

So let’s all make a wish to let Joe go back to tending his cows, running the farm and loving his dear wife, kids and grandkids. Cheers, Dee

Cool Music

I took up acoustic folk guitar last year because I knew it would be a long winter and no-one was around and music had always interested me from violin to piano to dance. Both my instructors were more comfortable teaching grade school students but found raw talent even if it came with an adult mind and body.

My first private instructor taught me basic chords mainly via childrens’ songs, Johnny Cash and others. My second was a rock & roll drummer and we were all over the place. For both, I brought in songs I wanted to learn, just to be able to strum with family and have a sing-along. I don’t think any song I chose to learn was written after the 70′s.

Then one day I was driving home from errands, turned on the radio and “Hey There, Delilah” was playing. I loved the tune. A few weeks later I was able to download the lyrics and vowed to figure out the chords for a beginner guitarist. I do that. But the best thing was being able to tell my teacher that I finally found a song from this decade, this century, that I want to learn to play!

Quit guitar for a while but bought a nice one and keep it in shape and hydrated. My husband told me weeks ago about a work function we have to attend and I kept it in the back of my mind, but tonight he told me it’s a concert. Plain White Tees! I jumped up and down (ask him!) and told him this story. I hear Delilah in my head but have to put it to paper before Friday and the private company concert. I’m going to do it without listening to it and make it work for beginner guitar. That’s my challenge. Aside from heating up my butternut squash and carrot soup, making sharp mac & cheese and a green salad, all I have to do is wash the dog and 12 other things. I’m best under the gun (figuratively, of course).

I hope you’re doing what you want in your life. It’s probably cooking. These days you may be one of the few to eat Concord grapes freshly picked. I ache for those days when I had them fresh off the vine. I need to find the site where they’re freezing the pulp and winnowing out the seeds. If I could get frozen Concord grape pulp, I’d learn how to make a great pie and use it for savory dishes as well. Cheers, Dee

Locavore, loca-date?

Date local. My favorite prof., a Friar, in my Marriage and Family course, talked about meeting someone who’s nearby, like the boy next door. He called it “propinquity.” Except it was the other way around. They tried to make propinquity into some sociological value to make it scientific.

I didn’t marry the boy next door, or anyone I would have thought of marrying. I married a genius from Texas, a nerd. To all those gals who didn’t look at him in high school or college because he was too smart, boo-hoo for you. We did meet locally, far from where we grew up.

There’s now a site for local dating that I applaud as I do cooking and eating local foods in season. I’m just glad I’m no longer “out there” on the market. Packing for a trip isn’t a really big thing, but I’ve a list for the dog (who is going elsewhere) and for us. And my love has not packed a bag in ten years! But that’s OK. We each have our strengths. He’s in charge of electronics.

So eat local, and date local. Long-distance relationships are a pain anyway. Cheers, Dee