I’m not really a fan of the “New Year” philosophy.  It’s, quite possibly, merely another attempt by the media to turn “nothing” into “SOMETHING”. Enter all the hype and hoopla that is generated just for the simple concept of one day turning into the next.  We get lured into making plans, buying fancy cloths, obtaining tickets to big parties, and (worse) making “New Year resolutions” that most likely are impossible to follow through on. Continue reading →

I am 53-year-old woman, I have been married to the same man for 32 years, I have spent the last 26 years raising four children, but — my father is still “Daddy” to me.  This got me thinking.

We daughters have a special relationship with our dads.  We let them get away with stuff we would never accept from anyone else.  We laugh uncontrollably at jokes we have heard a thousand times. We just can’t stay mad at them. — We laugh off their failings. No praise is more appreciated than praise that comes from your dad. Continue reading →

I caved! Last week we brought home a Rottweiler puppy — her name is Stella. Here’s the thing — remembering the pain of breaking in a puppy is a lot like the pain of labor — you forget how painful it is until you are trapped in a no way out situation. The morning after we brought the puppy home I laid in bed terrified thinking we made a terrible mistake.  My husband took the practical approach. While prying my fingers from the door jamb he reasoned  — “millions of people have dogs, how bad can it be?” Continue reading →

Today marks the first day of summer– yea– so what! What this translates into:  an unending supply of dirty glasses, wet towels, empty cereal boxes, milk cartons with one inch of milk, no bread,  flip-flops in every size everywhere, cars coming and going, loud music, and did I mention — non stop eating. There is no escape, today also marks the day we go “free for all”.  What’s crazy about this “I can’t wait for summer phenomenon”?– We always start out thinking that this year will be different–  I’ll go to the beach more, I’ll sit outside and read a book, I’ll use the pool we pour hundreds of dollars worth of chemicals into.  Instead, we go outside to read a book; but we see weeds that need pulling, garbage cans that need washing or a deck that needs painting. We say we are going to the beach, but we find ourselves at Costco or Stop and Shop buying enough food to feed an army. Forget I said anything about the pool — I don’t want to get my hair wet anyway. Continue reading →

Fresh basil!

“Only put off tomorrow what you are willing to die having left undone” — Pablo Picasso

OR

“Time is an equal opportunity employer.  Each human being has exactly the same number of hours and minutes every day.  Rich people can’t buy more hours. Scientists can’t invent new minutes. And you can’t save time to spend it on another day.  Even so, time is amazingly fair and forgiving.  No matter how much time you’ve wasted in the past, you still have an entire tomorrow.” — Denis Waitley

I confess — I have been a terrible blogger!   Where have I been?  What have I been doing? And what makes me think anyone even cares?  Important questions?  Not!!!  I will confess that since my last post I’ve managed to take procrastinating to new heights. Continue reading →

Last week I lost my biggest fan– the one person who knew me best and loved me most. On Tuesday, April 23, at the age of 99, my Nana passed away.

She and I had a special relationship– In 1971 she lost a daughter and I lost a mother.  For 41 years we have been trying to fill the void left by that loss in each others lives.  She was always — just there.  And now she’s not.

I have to try to take comfort in the fact that she is with my Mom again and they are both finally happy now. But I am sad for me, the motherless daughter left behind.  Nana had a long life filled with many happy moments– in the end she left nothing on the table. Ninety nine years is truly a life well lived. I am happy that she is finally at peace with all her peeps in heaven.  I like to think they were holding off on the macaroni and wondering what took her so long to get there.

Life is short– in this crazy world everyone is always so busy running around–sometimes too busy to make a phone call just to say “I love you”.  If your Nana is still around, pick up the phone right now and call her; make her day, tell her you love her, take five minutes to listen to her stories–I know she is waiting to hear from you.  Someday, when you least expect it you won’t be able to reach her by phone.

I have always been obsessed with leaving some kind of legacy, some kind of indication that I was here.  The great American novel? Cure for cancer? New App for the IPhone?  I think it’s safe to say that the ship may have sailed on those great endeavors for most of us. So the question is how do we achieve some sort of immortality? What will we be remembered for? What will be our legacy? Continue reading →

You are probably wondering how an Italian woman could have in her possession the best recipe for Irish Soda Bread. Well, many, many years ago I used to work at National Geographic  Magazine.  The receptionist was a woman named Delia T. Looney — she was right off the boat from Ireland — in her own words, this is her recipe. Continue reading →

I’m not sure how it happened, but I now belong to two book clubs. Let me back track a little — I have been a member of the Read and Rag book club for 11 years.  When my friend Michelle and I started the book club we had rules (sort of).  We have twelve members, we meet once a month, and whoever the hostess is must provide refreshments. Over the years not much has changed — we lost a few members but replaced them with women who added to the diversity and intelligence of our group.

Our meetings are very literary minded and often quite thought provoking — Well… maybe not always.  Picture twelve women all talking at once! One husband eavesdropping from upstairs described it as “witches cackling”. (A little harsh!)  Don’t get me wrong, we talk about the book — ten percent (okay 25 percent) of the time, and our conversations are thought provoking — just not always about the book. I once did an experiment.  I didn’t read the book, participated in the “10 percent” then later confessed to my literary crime. No one suspected!  I’m not sure what that means, but when I told my “new” book club about it, they were appalled and said they might not ever be able to trust me. Continue reading →

Winter’s last blast … hopefully!

I woke up this morning to winter — again.  What’s up with that groundhog? Really? Last night I made a recipe that is perfect for a winter’s night.  It not only fills your kitchen with an amazing aroma, but also fills your loved ones with good food.

I’ve been making this recipe since 2010.  It’s a Cook’s Illustrated Magazine recipe.

6 bone-in blade-cut pork chops (at least 1 inch thick), Table salt and ground black pepper, 2 tbls. vegetable oil, 1 onion chopped, 2 medium cloves garlic, minced, 2 tbls. unbleached all-purpose flour, 1/4 cup apple butter (1/4 cup extra),1 cup apple cider, 1 tsp. thyme, 1 tsp. apple cider vinegar.

1. Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position and heat oven to 300 degrees. Pat chops dry and season with salt and pepper.  Heat oil in large Dutch oven over medium-high heat until just smoking.  Brown chops in two batches, about 4 minutes per side; transfer to plate.  2. In same Dutch over, cook onion until softened.  Stir in garlic, flour and 1/4 cup apple butter, cook for 1 minute.  Stir in cider and thyme, scraping up any browned bits with wooden spoon, and bring to boil.  Add browned chops and any accumulated juice to pot, cover, and transfer to oven.  Braise until chops are completely tender, about 1 1/2 hours. 3.  Transfer chops to serving platter.Whisk vinegar, and remaining 1/4 cup apple butter into sauce.  Season with salt and pepper to taste.

I made polenta to go with this — it was delicious with the sauce on top. Yum!

Hopefully there won’t be too many more winter days that warrant such a dinner — grilling outside would be nice. It might not feel like it today, but spring is knocking!  This might be your last chance to make Cider-Braised Pork Chops this winter of 2013.

Several nights ago I was on the couch in my pre-bedtime coma pretending to watch yet another Law & Order rerun.  My husband woke me up waving a metal screw in my face. “Do you know what this is? I got it out of the dishwasher.” His voice had  frantic sound — I snapped to and tried to focus.  Somewhere in my unconscious a clock started ticking.  I jumped up and followed him out of the room.  “It’s from the vegetable steamer” I shouted in triumph!  I heard an imaginary buzzer!  He stopped dead in his tracks, turned around and stared at me intensely.  I could tell he was impressed. (By the way — he is hard to impress.)

This got me thinking. Upon command I can usually find any supposed lost or misplaced item no matter how small. I didn’t always have this psychic ability. It was born out of desperation the fist time I had to find a pacifier in the dark while a baby screamed. From pacifiers and blankies we moved on to beloved toys, very small pieces of toys and other types of miniature minutia  “Where’s the hat from my G.I.Joe?” (left side of the couch under the cushion); “Where’s the button from my coat?” (under the dresser– your sister’s bedroom); “I can’t find the purple crayon!” (kitchen drawer– second one on the left).

As the kids got older the pressure mounted. “Where’s my homework, my cleats, my text book, my lunch, my keys, my jersey, the dress I wore last Christmas….?” The possibilities of lost items was endless– the stakes were high– we were usually trying to find said items while trying to make the bus, the train or the bell. It got so bad I felt like I was in a throw back episode of Beat the Clock.

Now that everyone is older, I’m not called upon as often to miraculously find misplaced items.  But when duty calls I guess I still have the touch– I can still hear the buzzer.

I have been in my winter den hibernating these past few weeks. Everyone is going stir crazy, but I’m looking at these cold days as a time to catch up on quiet pursuits. “What are you doing?…” is  the number one question I am repeatedly asked.

I could give you the laundry list I have memorized — a sort of litany of uninteresting chores and errands I mumble when pressed for specific details — but I think I’ll come clean and give it to you straight.  I’ve been reading (The Tigers Wife), researching my future chicken coop ( i.e.picking a breed of chickens; rooster or no rooster?), knitting (a lot of knitting), connecting with old friends, making new friends, and I confess — at times — watching the snow melt.

Hope you are finding some quiet time in your life.

Quiet time reading

Almost finished baby blanket.

Have you ever baked your own birthday cake, gave your kids money so they could buy you a Christmas present, or cooked a great dinner that no one showed up to eat?  Have you ever bought your child a car only to have him roar off into the sunset with only a wave of thanks? Have you ever replaced tires, transmissions, batteries, etc. on a car you don’t ever drive? Have you ever paid college tuition bills for 16 long years?  Picked up prescriptions and dry cleaning; or done mailing or banking with never a nod of gratitude or a sense of appreciation? Get the feeling it’s just become expected?  Hello!–  It has! Maybe it’s time for change.

When it comes to our kids, we start out with such great expectations — it starts snowballing at birth (He will say his first word at two months, walk at one year, and be potty trained by two.) Reality check!  Speech pathologist at three,  occupational therapist at two and a half, and (God help us) still in Pull Ups at four. Fast forward — She will make varsity (never mind she’s only in seventh grade), State Team, National Team, scholarship? Harvard, Yale, NYU?   Why set ourselves and our kids up for disappointment– maybe lower expectations are in order.

It’s too late for me.  I’ve learned not to expect even a night of board games to turn out as expected.  There is hope, however, for the next generation of parents-to-be.  We could start a campaign during pregnancy to advocate against “great expectations”. (During Lamaze class, perhaps?)

In any event training a whole generation could take some time. Not wanting to drive you to suicide or homicide, I leave you with this thought– we may not get everyday gratitude or recognition for meals that miraculously appear every night, an unending supply of razors, soap, shampoo, etc., or even a new car; but a handwritten note on graduation day or a phone call just to say “I love you”– that’s priceless!

Last weekend I was almost talked into getting a dog. No joke! That’s right — the staunch defender of the “no more animals” policy almost caved.  They pulled out all the stops.  I was dragged into a puppy store.  My husband took my picture with a cute German Shepherd puppy that he already named Van Gogh (he had a crooked ear).  He then sent it out by iPhone to all four kids.  The same kids who take hours to call back when you really need to speak with them, responded right away — “please…..!!!”. The next thing I know, we are on the phone talking to breeders and looking at puppies on their website.  All I said was “they are kinda cute…”, that’s when the crazy train left the station and picked up speed.

While they were looking at puppies and planning a trip upstate to visit the breeder, I started thinking about our checkered history in the pet department. I remembered how I was left holding the bag with a parrot that never stopped shrieking (the few brief months it lived with us I could only make out every other word said on the telephone), an iguana that everyone was afraid of ( I gave it to the landscapers and I still believe they cooked over an open fire and ate it that same night), and gerbils that were like little Houdini’s ( you could put a cinderblock on top of the cage, and they would still escape into the piano).

Our first dog, we adopted from the pound — he was a runner.  Every time someone opened a door he ran away. I put up with this for several weeks.  One day I was chasing him down the road and I came to the realization that he didn’t like it at our house, so I let him go. The second dog was a black lab.  He stayed a puppy for five years.  He ran through gates, dug holes in the sheet rock, and chewed his way through solid oak chairs.  The third dog, an English bulldog (a surprise gift — needless to say I was shocked) was just plain dumb.  He got hit by a car three times, ate thirteen buckles off our loop-lock cover, and finally drowned in our pool. It was a horrible death, and I was sad — for a day.  I vacuumed up the dog hair and swore never again.  I was free!

I started having an out-of-body experience as I listened to them talk about the new puppy.  I heard someone say let’s get two– we’ll all help.  Are these the same “helpers” who refused to clean up dog poop because it made them gag, whose turn it never was when it was time to walk the dog, and who could never be found when the dog needed to go to the vet.

I looked at my husband; he looked at me — he knew.  The crazy train was pulling into the station — we were getting off.  He had that “what were we thinking” look in his eye.  I guess he too was taking a trip down memory lane — and it was littered with gates, pooper scooping, vet bills and late night walks in the pouring rain.  Choo Choo!!

Show a little love!

I have been obsessively listening to the weather these last few days — I don’t know why. What have I learned — it’s the coldest day in three years.  This makes me want to cook — I don’t know why.  So here is the fruit of my labor:  Perfect Pumpkin Bread.  I found this recipe in “The Best Bake Sale Ever Cookbook”, written by Barbara Grunes.

1/2 cup shelled roasted pumpkin seeds (pepitas), 1/12 cups plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour, 1 teaspoon baking powder, 1 tsp baking soda, 1/4 teaspoon salt, 1 teaspoon cinnamon, 1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature, 1 cup packed light brown sugar, 2 eggs, 1 cup canned pumpkin

Preheat oven to 350. Grease a 9×5 inch loaf pan.  Set aside.  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and cinnamon.  Set aside. In a large bowl with an electric mixer, cream butter and sugar until light, about 2 minutes.  Ad the eggs and beat until blended.  Blend in the pumpkin.  Beat in the flour mixture.  Spoon batter into prepared loaf pan and sprinkle the top with the pepitas.  Bake the bread for 45 to 50 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.  Cool the bread for 5 minutes, then remove from loaf pan and cool on wire rack.

I substituted King Arthur whole wheat white flour for the all-purpose flour and it was great.

Keep warm and remember — “Cooking is like love, it should be entered into with abandon or not at all.” – Harriet Van Horne, Vogue 1956-

I was at my gym early one morning, and I had to use the bathroom.  (Using the bathroom at the gym is something I try to avoid at all costs in the morning.)  On this particular morning it was unavoidable.  I did my business and looked to the left — no toilet paper.  Could it be a conspiracy?  Or is it just my luck?  It got me thinking.

We have six bathrooms in our house.  Time of day is of no consequence; whatever bowl I choose to sit down on never has toilet paper.  It’s amazing how I only notice this after I let go.  Sometimes there is only two thin squares left on the roll — not nearly enough — I’m not ashamed to admit that I have had to resort to using the hand towel once or twice when there was no one home to hear my screams.  This “always empty” phenomenon could be explained by the fact that there is less paper on the roll than there used to be, but I think something else is a foot.

Take our cars, for example.  We have five; none of them ever have gas.  It’s amazing how the last person to use the car can cut it so close.  The kids have it down to a science–  they leave just enough fumes to get you to the gas station.   Let’s talk food.  Cereal boxes with only a quarter cup of flakes, leftover containers with barely two tablespoons of rice, milk containers with an inch of sour milk — the list is endless.  How many times have you opened your bread drawer to find just a heel of bread.  I’m used to it now — I confess — I actually eat the last heel of bread, usually with the last smear of peanut butter.

Supernatural phenomenon? Masterminded conspiracy?   What’s going on at your house?

“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.  This is to have succeeded.”

-Ralph Waldo Emerson-

Have a wonderful weekend!

“What’s for dinner?”  I imagine people have been asking that question for centuries. Why do those three words have the power to strike terror in the hearts of most women?  When those hungry hoards come rolling in at the dinner hour; you better have something prepared.  It doesn’t matter if you have to kill, cook, or order it–dinner better be ready.

Coming up with ideas night after night gets rough.  It’s easy to get lazy. (Breakfast for dinner?)  That concept only works when you are serving little people.  Once everyone is six feet or more, pancakes and fruit are just an appetizer. My kids call in late in the day to find out what’s for dinner even if they won’t be home to eat it.  It’s some strange obsession — they just have to know. At four in the afternoon I could be staring at only a can of olives past its due date, a wilted head of Romaine, and two small red potatoes when the calls come in, but I better be able to turn it into a meal for six before 6:30. It brings to mind Jesus and the loaves and fishes — more of a miracle than I previously thought.

My go-to dinner is soup.  There is no more comforting food.  You can cook it in one pot, hide almost anything in it, and warm it up countless times to accommodate everyone’s schedule.  Last night I made lentil soup — it felt good, it tasted good, and it was ready by 6:30.

NANA’S LENTIL SOUP — WITH A TWIST

4 tbls. olive oil, 4 ounces pancetta, 1 onion diced, 2 cloves garlic minced, 1 celery stalk chopped, 3 carrots sliced, 42 ounces chicken broth (canned or homemade), 1 red pepper diced, 1 zucchini sliced in quarters, 1 cup frozen Italian green beans, 1/2 can tomato paste, 1 can chopped tomatoes, 1/2 bag lentils, 1/3 cup quinoa 1 small Italian-type cheese rind, fresh ground pepper to taste

In large soup pot sauté pancetta in olive oil for several minutes, add onion, garlic, celery, and carrots sauté several minutes more.  Add broth and everything else.  Bring to boil, cover and lower heat to simmer till lentils are tender. (Approximately 1/2 hour)

Enjoy!