Category Archives: Family

Conundrums, Copyrights and Spinach

Thank you US, Canada, France and New Zealand, Scotland, Korea and everyone who has read this blog. Let’s start with spinach. My husband arrived last night after a long weekend with his family. I was to ill to go with, so stayed home with the dog.

I made a wonderful dinner and asked if he wanted spinach. No. I took two endives out of the frig, sauced them with his favorite, bottled ranch dressing (I would have made another vinaigrette from scratch). He loved it. The conundrum (word of the day) is why would one not like spinach cooked briefly in olive oil and garlic and topped with parm, and like raw endive? It’s a stronger vegetable, probably better for him but not according to Popeye.

We have a shootout at the Not OK Corral this week. Both want a new Sheriff in town. Both want sole rights to everything the new Sheriff has done before. It’s called intellectual property. Forever, birth to death even with a short-term contract. That’s a no go for me. Been there, done that, and I’m his Annie Oakley, word-wise sharp with a pen, not a gun.

I’m a smart gal and know that if the Sheriff has offered to share ownership of his prior published work that’s a great deal for the client because he has 100% ownership rights now, and a book that has been published. It is printed and bound and on the table. Before they hire him they want the rights.

I have one word, copyright.

We’re in the holiday season and things shut down, People talk about giving thanks, but they leave people who have gone through their rigamarole for months at risk of him leaving for a better offer. One can hire the smart guy but not hijack or harness his mind.

I learned in high school not to date the cute guy, or the jock, just date the fellow smart one. It took years of my inner geek to find my soul mate. He arrived last night, and walked the dog while I finished dinner. No spinach. Marrying the smart guy means we can have lifelong conversation. Over sixteen years, fifteenth wedding anniversary soon. Cheers! Dee

 

Advertisements

Cloves

That goes in the arena of culinary mishaps. I’ve made a few major gaffes, especially before I got a culinary degree.

My cousin will never let me live down the uncooked “roasted” chicken I made him in a tiny apartment stove/oven. The pilot light went out and the skin looked gorgeous but the meat was raw. I re-lit the pilot, carved the chicken and sauteed it until done on the two-burner stove. Decades later he tells my siblings “your sister tried to kill me.”

I was living and working on the east coast and my family moved out west. I went to visit for the holidays and decided to cook them dinner from a very famous cookbook. The Bolognese sauce included 1/8 tsp. of cloves. I served the dinner and everyone said “cloves.” I made up my recipe from then on and have had no complaints, even when I make Moussaka and use cinnamon. Ok, that’s an error as well as I made it for guests so I could make it in advance so we could enjoy said guests. My husband hates eggplant. I’ve not made it since but am thinking of making it with zucchini as the “pasta” layers rather than grilled eggplant.

Mom and I went to a farmers’ market before I was married. I found this lovely little plant called Thai Chili. I was visiting family again and making a chicken chili, still before cooking school. I didn’t have an idea then as to Scoville Units, like Jalapeno is 3,000 – 5,000 and Habanero is about 300,000. Now ghost peppers are way out there.

I used 1/4 of what was in the recipe and no-one could eat it. For the next day or two I put in potatoes, carrots, everything but the kitchen sink but it was inedible. No, I didn’t give it to my former dog, she would have died right then and there.

Given one French and one Italian cooking school, I’ve not made grave errors since. There are actually successes and folks like my food. They actually say “Dee’s a chef.” I wouldn’t go so far, I’m a good cook that likes to cook for my family and entertain sometimes (when my husband doesn’t ask can we have so-and-so come over in 1/2 hour)?

Unless someone he knows and likes regularly comes over to see what I’m making for dinner, that’s a no, dear. I’m known to pick 5-6 cookbooks to open on my bed to come up with a menu. Then there are lists and shopping and prep. No, dear. Cheers and happy cooking! Dee

Fingerprints

Nearly 30 years ago I quit my job and went to cooking school, spending my lifetime savings on school, two Henckels knives (10″ chef and 4″ paring) and a Kitchenaid mixer.

A few weeks ago my husband decided to sharpen his favorite knife for cutting apples, the parer. When I used it to cut something for dinner, I sliced open my thumb. Nasty, deep cut. I had a Nexcare bandage on it for weeks while it healed and my skin peeled away in layers from the adhesive.

Guess what? My right thumb is the signature for me to log into my cell phone! I couldn’t get in at all. The other day my husband prompted my phone to re-scan my thumb print. I still can not get in, except via a six digit code.

I never thought this kind of thing could happen, and asked him not to sharpen any of my many knives again. Just to cut an apple a day? Please. I cook three meals per day.

Today is Beef Carbonnade. Beef, onions, bacon and beer. Saute bacon and remove. Saute the onion and remove. Cut up chuck steak and dredge in seasoned flour. Add everything back to the pot. I am using a new local microbrew to come halfway up. Braise on low on the stove or in a slow oven for 1.5 to 3 hours. Serve over egg noodles. Yum. Eat well, Dee

Teachers

My aunts are retired English teachers. No, we moved before I had them in “class” but I was in class all my life. When I used the “loo” I had to look at the dictionary, find a word I did not know, spell it, define it and use it in a sentence.

Learning to read at age four I read Romeo and Juliet, and Hamlet, at another school but these were the teachers I wanted to be. Second grade (I was a year early) I was reading The Diary of Anne Franke and Death Be Not Proud. It was a hobby, and a mission.

Years ago someone took me to dinner with a psychic. She told me I was going to be a teacher. I was a teacher of non-profit organizations for years, help my husband consulting with huge corporations and do my best with pups in our neighborhood.

I’m not a renowned English teacher that teaches Shakespeare, the Holocaust, or of Native Americans. I am and will always be a teacher. Dee, Retired but still volunteering. D

Shortcuts

I would not ever use them on my family or our dog, who is probably the most spoiled canine on the planet. Or cheat on our food, except a frozen Friday Night Pizza from the convenience store so when his plane arrives I can have the oven heating. Flights from the West Coast are notoriously late or cancelled, I make excellent dough and pizza but I’m not going to get up at 11 p.m. to make the dough (Italian OO flour) and prepare the toppings. Dog Zoe and I are in bed by then.

My husband wants to use highways, paid or toll-free, to get everywhere. He says they’re faster but they’re usually clogged with traffic and I don’t normally drive more than two miles a day.

He’s off at work for the day or week or month and I need groceries, his dry cleaning and more. We move to a new city and I have to learn my way around. This was before GPS and what he calls “Google Girl.”

I find back streets to take me to the grocery. He tells me I’m “sneaky.” I show him the way and he takes it! Way to go, Dee!

Don’t tell him, but I also try to add veggies and fiber to his diet. Sneaky, yes. Just clean a pile of radishes or peel a jicama and make a salad with apple and vinaigrette. Those are not really shortcuts.

We spent nearly a year to get our Zoe to adopt a food and she has, for nearly 14 years. I never take shortcuts on that, except to make sure her tummy can take the raw food dry version for car trips as no-one will sell us dry ice here to keep her frozen raw food good during travel. I usually have it delivered every few weeks. She loves M, who takes it to our door and tells a story while he pets her. Some shortcuts are good! Dee

Processed Cheese Slices

Yes, when Mom cared to make me a sandwich for lunch in grade school a slice was usually my sandwich, with bread. Perhaps there was bologna involved, which I took off.

I was never allowed to have individually wrapped slices because that was a waste of money. Now, decades later, every once in a while I’ve a childhood taste memory for a grilled cheese sandwich with individually wrapped slices of childhood cheese.

Last night we had great burgers on the grill and I said I was going to place a slice of horrible, individually wrapped cheese on top of mine with sliced tomato and baby greens. My husband hates the stuff but loves my childhood memories so asked for a slice of cheese as well. That’s why I love him. He always surprises me. Enjoy the day! Dee

Grands

We get to do things for people. Share meals after a prayer. There are five grandchildren, plus me, an honorary. My husband is the eldest male grand and is his father now is the eldest living son. I only say this in an informational context.

I would like, as a perpetrator of the “war of Northern aggression” to retain tradition. No, J, I was not alive in 1860 to wage war on the South. I would like to retain what is now my family and its traditions. Most of my family is gone now, both parents. Yes, we are from the North but our families share roots in Europe.

What do we do? Bring games for the kids who are getting too old to like them. The boys play football now. We don’t set up this outdoor game, measured boundaries, for nothing. I’m there to help, then cheer on the kids. Both sides. That’s what grands do, cheer for great-grands and further. Thank you, Nanny! Dee