Toot Toot!

I love food. I love cooking it. I love baking it. I love tasting it. Sitting outside on a beautiful sunny day reading an enticing cookbook is one of my favorite past times. And as much as I love a good recipe, I can barely recall one that I haven’t tweaked a little bit. I think all good cooks tweak their recipes a pinch or two in an effort to add a touch of flare.

I think of recipes as mere suggestions on how to blend a variety of foods to acquire a particular flavor. I’ve found that if I do have a recipe in front of me, I follow the recommendations the first time to see if I like the flavor they're working for. Then, when I eat the cuisine, I start checking off things in my head that I would add or change to possibly improve it.

I have two straight-up rules – one for baking and one for cooking – that I follow every time I’m in my kitchen. One: If I’m cooking up something for dinner and the recipe does not call for onion, I just assume they forgot to write it down and I throw some in. Two: If I’m baking something delicious and the recipe does not mention vanilla, I know they forgot to write that one down, and I add an extra tablespoon or two just to make up for somebody forgetting – how dare they! Many times, I like to think of Vanilla and Almond Extract as long lost loves that never should have been separated and I reunite them and allow them to share the credit and the spotlight when people comment on the fabulous flavor of my desserts.

Of course, the more time one spends in the kitchen, the better one gets at knowing what foods play together well and what foods make beautiful music together. Eating at fabulous restaurants has been my greatest teacher when it comes to knowing what food combinations will make a big splash in the kitchen. The biggest thing I’ve learned is that almost everything goes well together. I’ve been at restaurants and read menus that made me lean back in my chair and think,
“No WAY!”

YES way! YUM!

I admit, I’ve gone a little overboard once or twice with the theory that all foods play well together in the kitchen. My taste buds, as well as my pride have taken some serious hits in the past, but luckily these little culinary bombs have only gone off in the privacy of my own kitchen.

I’ve learned the hard way never to make a recipe the very first time for a large group of people. I made an eggplant lasagna for the whole family once and it quickly became apparent that I had never worked with the purple vegetable before because it was so tough. Every single dirty plate came back with a slab of eggplant on it. Add to that, the lasagna itself was painfully bland. Very disappointing.

On the other hand, when I create something truly stellar, I do not hesitate to toot my own horn. If I make something that I absolutely adore and want to devour myself, I will literally “Toot Toot” my own horn. Why not? Good eatin’ is good eatin’!

Tonight the horn was blowing crazy loud, after I threw together some foods that I had a feeling might be happy together. I made some mouthwatering meatballs that contained ground beef, chopped spinach, bread crumbs, egg, ketchup, chitpole sauce, salt, pepper, and of course, large pieces of onion – so large, that the ends of them are sticking out of the meatball as you roll it, bake it, and eat it. Oh, and when I rolled them into their little odd-shaped balls, I tucked a perfect piece of Gouda cheese inside, so there would be a surprise lava – if you will – oozing from the center. Kind of like the tootise roll in the center of the Tootsie Pop – that surprise never gets old!

The one Golden rule with this type of cooking is that when you hit the jackpot like I did tonight, you savor every single moment of the flavor, because you didn’t measure a darn thing, so your chances of performing this magic trick again are not good. But you can’t worry about that right now. All your attention should be on the culinary masterpiece sitting right in front of you. With each bite, notice how your taste buds come alive over and over again as if drunk with happiness! Let them enjoy this moment that may never come again. It’s what makes the moment – and these meatballs – so special!

“Toot Toot!!!”

Posing Monkeys

I just completed a six week photography class, which in my mind, made me more than qualified to run a real photo shoot. I had great ideas and locations in mind, but my dilemma was finding people to pose for me. Luckily, five little “monkeys” were being driven in from Louisville, KY by my sister and her husband last weekend.

“Monkeys” can be a little difficult to work with sometimes because of their sporadic nature and their resistance to sitting still, but no one would argue that they are the best and most beautiful things to photograph.

Believe it or not, the photo shoot did got as smoothly as planned. Apparently, I haven’t learned everything there is to know about proper lighting and avoiding blurriness. ( Hold On! My computer just told me that blurriness is not a word – whatever! ) I don’t know what went wrong. As the monkeys moved about, I moved with them, snapping pictures like a maniac. Isn’t that what the professionals do? When I took a moment to see what kind of shots I was getting, all I could see was a bunch of blurry monkeys. I could feel myself getting frustrated and anxious because I knew my models would only last so long, which means I had to pull it together, quick!

Over all, the monkeys were fantastic to work with – real naturals -and I look forward to working with them again, because next time, I’ll do better. I did get a few shots that I’m proud of – photos that captured the true essence of them. I can actually see the spirit of each and every one of them shining through in the pictures. It’s like magic!

At first glance, many people comment how similar the three older girls look because of their mutual brown hair and brown eyes, but I see three completely different faces, personalities, and individuals.

I love that at their age, they still celebrate and believe in the beauty of themselves. They all see themselves as the pretty princess in their own story and it never occurs to them to see themselves as anything other than magnificent. Oh, how I wish that feeling could last a lifetime. But every woman I know, including myself, grows up to see a reflection in the mirror that no one else sees but her. She will see every blemish, every gray hair, every extra pound, every funky mole, and every knobby knee. She’ll see everything, except the reality that all these “flaws” do indeed make her beautiful in her own way.

I’m starting to believe that if we’re doing this “life” thing right, we should be able to make it through all that internal trash talk and end up on the other side of it. And when we do make it to the other side, we should be aware of how unique we are and celebrate that. We should know who we are, be proud of it, and use that confidence to live our best life. Not acknowledging and celebrating the woman we are, and still working to become is not only our loss, but also a tremendous loss for everyone around us.

That, ladies and gentlemen, was my impromptu lecture for the women of the world!

Excuse me for a moment, as I now step down from my soapbox.

Aaaaaaaaaaanyway…..

As with the end of any big photo shoot, dessert was served for a job well done. At least, that’s the way my photo shoots are gonna go down! I made a Strawberry Cheesecake Trifle as a treat and since the monkeys did so well, I gave them each a long spoon and let them dig in and devour as only kids can do! Amy and I did some serious damage to it also, only because it was soooooo good – if I do say so myself!

Yum!

Good Night... to Goodbye

My younger sister, Amy moved away to Nebraska ten years ago after getting married to Eric. We had never been that far apart before, so it took some getting used to. Even though we’re not twins, we’ve been asked the question many times, which we find ridiculous, because we just don’t see it. We used to stand in front of the mirror, look each other over, and laugh, “I just don’t see it.” When strangers ask us if we’re twins, we answer them with, “No, we’re not twins, but we were born on the same day." That always gets a few odd looks!

We were both born on April 2nd – just two years apart – which means we’re both Aries – which means we both like to talk a lot. One of the first times she called me from Nebraska, we talked for nearly two hours. I remember, because I heard her husband’s voice in the background and then my sister laughing.

“Did you hear what he said?”

“No. What?”

“He asked what we could possibly talk about for two whole hours.”

Now I was laughing right along with her. Little did he know, two hours for my sister and I was peanuts. Ten years ago, when we paid per minute for a long distance call, we justified that paying 8-10 bucks for our conversation was better than any movie playing at the theatre. Now that we have the phone plans with unlimited minutes, all bets are off and the only way to end our conversations is for the batteries to die in one or both of our phones. Even the Energizer Bunny is no match for me and my sister. We’re so incapable of ending our conversations that sometimes when one of our phone dies and we get disconnected, we both just walk away, rationalizing that the phone did for us, what we couldn’t do for ourselves.

We both agree that this problem stems from our childhood, when we slept in the same double bed every night. Our mother would yell for us to “GO TO SLEEP!” and we would try, but there was always something more to be said. Eventually, as we grew tired, one of us would say, “Okay, Good night.”

“Good Night.”

“OH! Just one more thing……….”

Now, we only live three hours away from each other – not that it matters – and we admit that when we see each other’s name come up on the caller I.D., we hesitate to pick it up because we know that we cannot get on and off the phone in less than an hour and sometimes we just don’t have the time. Still, more times than not, we pick it up anyway. We start many conversations with, “Ok. I don’t have much time. I just have one quick question…..”

Whatever!!!!

The other night, after an hour on the phone with each other, the first “good bye” almost took, but then one subject led to another and the conversation continued. Once again, I heard Eric’s voice in the background, followed by my sister’s laughter.

“What did he say?”

He asked, “When you say “Good Bye” does that just mark the end of the first hour?”

We laughed together. Poor Eric – what he has to put up with. In our defense, our conversations are totally productive. We pick each other up when we’re down, we brainstorm about how to make our lives richer and more meaningful and more fun. We talk about ideas and dreams and aspirations. We’re both dreamers, so there’s a lot of talk and very little follow through, but we got grand ideas and some day, we’re gonna rule the world – just you wait and see. At the very least, we’re gonna be on Oprah!

Love Ya Sis!

Call ya tomorrow…….

No More Poop Dungeons!

The discussion of sensing water faucets followed me to work today, and I got some interesting and potentially useful advice on how to handle dysfunctional bathroom equipment from some of my patients.

“Lulu” had a good suggestion right out of the gate. She asked me if I had tried to clear the sensor mechanism.

“What?”

I never thought about the sensor getting gunked up with soap residue, therefore inhibiting the sensor from properly sensing. Brilliant! Of course, she followed this simple practical advice with her second suggestion, which was a little less practical. She recommended I try flashing the faucet.

“What?!”

She reasoned that if the theory on the color black disrupting the sensor was indeed correct, then flashing the faucet - exposing my bare flesh – just might be the answer. Of course, you hope a nun or a mother with her young son doesn’t interrupt this experiment…....

Amazingly, this bathroom conversation with “Lulu” lasted for nearly thirty minutes. Once we had solved the problems of sensing water faucets, we moved on to toilets and automatic flushing.

We’ve all been in a stall where the toilet refuses to acknowledge our presence and fails to flush when we’re done. No matter what dance you do, no matter how many times you get up and down from the seat, it simply ignores you and remains silent. Irritating!

Then there’s the toilet seat that you have to leap from to keep from being sprayed because it’s flushing action is so violent, that the water goes everywhere. Scary!

And there’s always that one toilet that rushes you out of the stall by flushing before your business is done – what’s that all about? Rude!

As annoying as all these little defects can be, I would still take them any day over the outhouse I used in the mountains of Canada. I hadn’t been in a real outhouse since I was a kid, when our family went camping out west for weeks at a time. I forgot how awful they can smell. When I used the one in Canada two weeks ago, I painfully moaned and groaned the whole time and officially swore off poop dungeons for good. I could have used a good toilet spray after that experience.

But enough about toilets and outhouses…………..

Nothing.

So, I’m at the North Market this morning with my sister, when I excuse myself to use the ladies room. When it’s time to wash my hands, I load up on the pink soap and place my hands under the faucet.

“Oh. This is one of those sensing no-touch faucets – great.” I think to myself.

Nothing’s happening.

I move my hands closer.

I move them farther.

To the left, maybe.

Oh, of course, a little more to the right.

Nooo……

Maybe I’m too close.

Maybe I’m moving too quickly.

Maybe my hands are too high.

Oh wait, there obviously too low.

Noooooo…….

Maybe I need to step back a moment before I lose my cool.

What am I supposed to do with all this soap and no water to rinse it off?

I turn around and notice the toilet’s got a lot of water in it – Groooooooss!

Somebody told me once that the sensors can be thrown off by the color black. Of course, I thought that was ridiculous when I first heard it, but now as I stand here soapy and wearing black, I find myself wishing a lady in red would walk through the door.

Right about now, my sister probably thought I fell in…..

I take a deep breath.

I walk away for a moment to regroup.

I sneak up on the stubborn faucet, slide my hands under it, and BSHHHH! - a quick burst of water gushes out for just a second. If I would have blinked I would have missed it, but what I did get, was gonna have to be enough.

Now, I go to dry my hands under the blow dryer.

A sensing no-touch blow dryer.

Nothing.







Still nothing.

I walk out.