Too Much Thyme On My Hams

October 30, 2012 ~ Creamy Comfort

2012-10-30T21:22:00.000-05:00

I am pretty sure I live a good life. I don't have shiny things to show you to prove it or overflowing accolades or a Butler to get you tea; but I have the love of people who I care about and I know loved ones who want the best for me and worry about me when it rains. Even more, I have have an opportunity in this life to love and worry about others when it rains. And these past few days, boy has it rained on some of my loved ones!

Hurricane Sandy, and some crazy cold front stretching to Wisconsin combined to leave me glued to the weather channel and Facebook so I could see what was happening to my loved ones in their towns and then of course what they had to say about it...!!!

Because so many of these loved ones are family, I decided to make cod fish stew; it is a recipe that Grandma Bortle brought us; but I believe my Dad perfected it; because I thought he was perfect. So this one is for you, my loved ones...

Just a few ingredients - potatoes, cod fish fillets, onion, garlic, shallots, milk, whipping cream, salt and pepper.

And a lot of butter...hence, the comfort!

Saute the Shallots, onion, garlic and salt and pepper.

Then add your cod fish.

Meanwhile, boil your potatoes. I used red here because I had them and kept the skin on to shake things up. Then combine with cream, milk and cod fish mixture.

I find you have to continually add salt and peeper as it all blends. I also do a butter/flour melted mix in the microwave to help thicken the stew. I do that mixture in the microwave...and am realizing that is all I use the microwave for.

My dad always toasted white bread, topped it with butter then coated it with the stew. I can just think about it and feel safe, comforted. Maybe it was just my Dad that made me feel that way, but I am hoping it is also the stew...and if I could, I would have it delivered to every one of my loved ones who are dealing with the aftermath of this crazy storm! Or, the aftermath of any other devastation ...and would hope, for you, comfort.

October 15th ~ Looked Him Straight in the Eye and Lied

2012-10-15T21:34:00.000-05:00

Do you remember that crush from high school that you just adored. You thought about them everyday and you dressed with them in mind every morning. You thought they were the cutest and coolest and that they were looking at you just now when you were walking down the hall.You played a different kind of Four Square with your fold out paper game determining how many kids you would have; what your house together would look like and where you would honeymoon. You stood in giddy suspense as they signed your yearbook; feeling confident that "You are sweet, good luck next year" translated to "I am going to marry you some day."

And only in hindsight do you realize that they never even knew you existed.

Fast forward to years down the road; and you run into this boy you spent four good years of your life addicted to. You can't see the resemblance; clearly, the one you crushed on never really existed.

Well I have been crushing on Bob's Small Town Grille in Royston for a few years now. Clearly, high school taught me nothing. Bob doesn't know I exist and I gush over his restaurant and food as if he just wrote "Will you come and work in my restaurant some day?" in my The Professional Chef workbook.

But this past weekend, I ran into Bob and his grille. I couldn't see the resemblance. There was a festival going on in downtown Royston; which can be lent to forgive some of the reasons' the Grille didn't resemble anything I had been crushing on; like the flies covering our corner booth; or the straw, silverware, and pile of crumbs and cracker wrappers I had to step over in order to get into the seat. I mean the day must have been busy; although it is Royston. The festival was a block or two long; not Athfest after all.

There was a limited menu, understandable again; by all accounts this festival was going to bring a lot more patrons then a typical Saturday. Only 5 or 6 items on the menu. I ordered the Jerk Chicken and Black Bean Wrap. My friend ordered a bowl of chili. When our food arrived my friend's chili was in a bowl that it only half filled. Which I didn't really think to judge the portion as much as I just wondered why the bowl was allowed to arrive at a table showing signs of already giving out 10 to 12 test taste bites. There was no garnish, no crackers or cornbread offered to give the chili companionship. And visually; it clearly needed a companion. My wrap arrived on a clear plate with obvious fingerprints all around the plate. Like the glass door at the store after story time toddlers have had their way with it. It was tightly wrapped and straight up cut in equal halves, the wrap that is...and that is as exciting as the presentation was going to get. Part way through the first half I found a tomato; and likewise after I dug through a bit of the second half I discovered lettuce. Which combined made me wonder who ran into who in the kitchen. Before long I could hear Bob at our table asking 'how is everything folks?' oh no; keep your head low Sharyn. 'Good'; says my friend.

'How is that wrap?' counters Bob; I am screwed. I raise my eyes to meet his and I say ~ 'Great, thanks.'

Looked him straight in the eye and lied.

Now I know that I am not intimidated by Bob's Small Town Grille anymore. I don't need to practice different cooking techniques or out do his cheesy grits. I don't need to make a better burger or serve a better table. I saw Bob's Small Town Grill in its bald, overweight, mid life crisis state; the one you don't recognize from your crush. He still doesn't know I exist, I presume; but I am a lot less intimidated by his (restaurant's) existence and a lot less concerned that he ever write in my yearbook (cookbook).

October 6th, 2012 ~ Cooking with Purpose

2012-10-06T22:11:00.000-05:00

Some of my favorite memories of my Dad are when we would be driving in the car together and have our own father daughter chat time. I had a catering job this week that, for me, was big. And I so desperately wanted to take a ride with him and have him tell me how I was going to pull it off and that everyone was going to love my food. I wanted to tell him my recipes and ask him if I should add more sweetened condensed milk to the banana pudding or does he think my beans will have enough spice. He was the best cook. And the best part of his cooking was just how much thought he put into the person or people he was cooking for.

The catering job I had this week was for the agency I used to work for. It was their Employee Appreciation Picnic. I knew this food was going to be for workers with genuine hearts for serving others. Workers who live in the trenches with people at the lowest moments of their lives. These workers do not make a lot of money. They don't receive grand accolades. They quietly go about doing the work of angels. So I did my best to channel my Dad and care about each and every one of these workers as I made what otherwise could be phoned in.

They asked me to make potato salad:

When you are asked to make 300 servings of anything, you have to find a way to love it. Maybe it is just loving the opportunity. But I wanted each hard worker to know there was something special about this potato salad. It was especially made for them.

They asked me to make 150 servings of Baked Beans, exact same recipe as last year please; same as last year. That is a complement!

They asked me to make 150 servings of corn on the cob:

I was most excited about this. I thought when I was wrapping it up to take to the picnic this is the most special; no one will see it coming...that white stuff is cheese!

They asked for 210 servings of Banana Pudding:

This is the single greatest dessert I have ever made. Yes, I admit I suck at making desserts. But I really spent time on this. And when my nephew said it was the best thing ever, I knew it was ready to show appreciation to the employees at the picnic.

They asked me to make 105 servings of Oreo Chocolate Pudding:

How can you go wrong!

I enjoyed every opportunity to care for the people I was cooking for when I made these dishes. I understood why my Dad loved to cook so much. When it was time to deliver the goods I could not help but take a couple pictures of my grand finale:

The puddings

And everything else.

My brother helped me deliver the food as it was too much to fit in my car. And when I said, hang on just a minute, I want to take a picture; he asked if I wanted to take all the lids off. I said no; I loved seeing the pans all tightly secured in surprise. I walked away wishing for the all the people who were about to eat my food to feel the appreciation they deserved for the work they do. I hope it tasted like they were cared for. I hope it tasted like I appreciated the opportunity I was given.

September 23rd ~ Weak in the Knees

2012-09-23T22:16:00.000-05:00

Today I met for the first time with a personal trainer. I have resigned to the fact that this belly fat isn't going to be willed away; and my slow and steady, probably won't enter a race, run/walk approach isn't working.

Because I was feeling particularly overwhelmed with my belly rolls and my new venture into meeting new people, dating even; I panicked and hired Georgia's, not one - but THREE time, Strongest Man. I ate a banana for breakfast but nothing else. Our session was at 2. I was afraid I would throw up ~ like when I didn't work out all summer and and had to show up at a pre-season basketball practice in high school. Coach Crowe or Coach Wayne; one of those sadistic; happy to see me throw up coaches (as of course we assumed of them at that age) had us running suicides and even though I could here her yelling at me I was pretty sure I just concentrated on not throwing up...ah, the loveliness of being out of shape!

When I arrived at his gym I was, surprisingly, not nervous. That has been happening a lot lately. I think it is because I am making good decisions; the right ones. Or maybe, I have just had enough of that. That choosing to not participate in life. Plus, it is only a 30 minute session. Surely to God I can take whatever this guy is gonna throw at me, for 30 minutes...?

I enter the front door, which is opened. Like a welcome mat. It reminds me of a training barn for horses, only in that the front door and the back door ~ a large warehouse type door ~ are both opened and large industrial fans are at both ends blowing away the smell of sweat, and testosterone. There is not a single apparatus that I recognize. Granted, I don't hang out in gyms; but I have seen plenty of treadmills, elliptical machines, and stationary bikes covered in coats, used as drying racks, and collecting dust in many of my friends homes. I myself have some nonsense that has been used as nothing more then a swing set for my niece and nephew over the years.

My Georgia's Strongest Man Cubed appears and he is the tallest man I have ever seen; with the exception of that bizarre guy I want out with last year that made me hike 8 miles in the Amicalola Falls Park before he would feed me. But that bizarre guy was 1/2 the width of me; GSM3 is not. He is rather large; but very engaging. So instead of being scared I feel those insanely broad shoulders are going to take me where I want to go. And I get pumped!

He starts me out on the bench press. After 3 sets of 10 of some embarrassingly light weight bar; my arms feel like your legs do after you go on a horseback ride and you haven't ridden before. My arms are wobbly and kind of doing their own thing as we move to some leg press type thing. My right leg is much stronger then my left leg. As I attempt to throw some ridiculously heavy volleyball sized ball up in the air at some unattainable X; I wonder if I walk with a limp and just never realized it. How can one leg be carrying so much of the load all this time?

There are 26 respectable sit ups; three, not so much; and one I am just sure I got away with.Then there was the machine where GSM3 said 'now, have you worked on one of these?' to which I said, 'yes, I think I have'; then proceeded to sit on it backwards. There was a rope, which he tried to claim was just like Double Dutch from Elementary School. It was not. It was a Mother of a rope!

As we wrapped things up I took a knee (sat on a bench); and we planned out our future (the next month). I had marks all over a calendar; like real plans! Something to do every Tuesday and Thursday morning. As I walked to my car, I could feel I was weak in the knees. And where I know the realities of that weakness, I chose to enjoy it the way you do when you are kissed on the pier with the stars looking on. Like, it is just a really good thing; good for you.

Then, I note that I am starving. So I go home and make a lovely, workout dinner of baked chicken and lemon butter sauteed baby kale!

I have been starving for a while. There is no need for that. I need to start eating up this life I am given; this life I am making.

Overdue in September ~ Trader Joe's to the Rescue!

2012-09-18T22:04:00.001-05:00

I recently made a trip to Trader Joe's. Believe it or not I have actually only shopped at one a couple of times. Once was a rush in for flowers for my nieces' dance recital in Marietta and another was rushing in to get pita chips and cheese for a last minute party invite I scored.

But this day, I meandered, absorbed and participated in the joy of a Trader Joe's.

And here is the damage...

...what to make first??

Well the figs are 'thyme' sensitive, so lets start there.I find the black figs, goat cheese, prosciutto, and whole grain flat bread. I pull out the olive oil and garlic spread as the base and we are off and running with a cool pizza.

I threw on the prosciutto, sliced figs, cheese and bake...

This was Delicious.!

But the best part of this day was this.

When I arrived at the store there was a class of special education students from the local high school learning basic living skills at the store. I purposefully stayed behind them down each isle. Except the wine one of course. I enjoyed their journey through the store.There seemed to be a great deal of talk and learning around the fresh fruit - "I like grapes, I don't know what this is"...and chips..."I like sour cream and onion, I shouldn't eat this"...

I realized how food is not universal. Other then the sustainability to living and breathing. These kids where here learning about food; food for the most part that some were never going get to experience...it was just part of an exercise to them.

Not every kid, or grown up, gets to experience fig & goat cheese, or peace and quite, or hugs and kisses .

Life is so different and unbelievable ridiculous for each of us. I never take my opportunities for granted. I just hope I make the best of them.

September 8th ~ Rhubarb Rules

2012-09-08T22:55:00.000-05:00

I have recently made a conscious effort to get out and meet new people. So far it has paid off. It turns out there are actually some pretty lovely people out there. With meeting new people you have to reveal some things about yourself. You know, where you were born, where you grew up, where were you when the world stopped turning, etc.

These pretty lovely people want to know where you went to school, what you studied in school; they want to know where you like to eat and what you like to eat; they want to know if you like the beach or the mountains. It is a whole lotta stuff you thought all along you were holding close to the vest to keep a mystique about yourself; but it turns out it is all just nice to meet you banter.

In having to go back to the day I was three years old I am learning what I really am all about. It turns out I am a pretty interesting chick. I am odd, different, unique. I have been there, and here, and nowhere. I don't look good in pink, and shouldn't. I look good in blue and own nothing that is blue. I write blogs that don't change the world but I wish with all my heart I could imprint a change on this earth I stomp, skip and stride across.I am painfully aware that I am not the smartest person in the room, not even top 15 percentile.I am also painfully aware that I am woefully dependent on being the most taken advantage of person in the room. I see my dreams; perched in the corner to the left. I am all of my highs, and all of my lows.

I am just a girl, in a world of girls and boys, women and men; trying to figure out how to comport myself with some sort of dignity through this nonsense, clarity; I think it is called life.

If it is this hard for me, what can it possibly be like for Rhubarb??

For the three or four of you who follow my blog, you know of my love of Rhubarb. Rhubarb for me is like that stinking Lovie that your two year old can't fall asleep without. The one with silk on one side and an elephant head holding it all together.

I desperately need Rhubarb in my life. It reminds me of North Dakota; genuine people, wind, richness amid poverty, pancakes. I crave it. I think it should come in a pill.

When I was a kid my Mother would make potato pancakes. If it were a special occasion she would serve them with Apple Sauce. I loved potato pancakes. They are also a part of me. Probably the the excess belly part of me.

Rhubarb is chopped,

..with affection of course. Then I toss it with honey and lemon in a pot and cook it down to a sauce.

Meanwhile shred your russet potato...in doing this it occurs to me why we ate so many potato pancakes growing up...they are like loaves and fishes...when you don't hog the potato for yourself, you realize it can actually feed many.

I chopped some onion:...

Then toss the grated potato, chopped onion, an egg and salt and pepper...

...while I make a skillet hot...once the pan is hot drop your pancakes in.....

,,,just a few minutes here and flip over there to cook the pancakes...

..then plate up with that wonderful rhubarb sauce you created earlier...

...I added some bacon to make a completely inappropriate/appropriate meal...

It is Delish... and now is a part of me...something I will have to reveal...oie~~

September 2 ~ Pick Me, Pick Me!

2012-09-02T17:23:00.001-05:00

Someone recently posted a picture of me from my high school years on Facebook. And I was reminded of the oddities about myself. What makes me different and unusual. How those oddities make up the person I am. Part of the history of me.

When I was a baby I had peach fuzz that eventually grew into a vibrant auburn head of hair. It stood out in every room, every landscape; like a Dr Pepper in a field of lemonade. To top it off I was speckled, like trout or hens. Freckles are a tough sell; it doesn't matter that they have nothing to do with Dodge Ball.

There is a puffiness about me face too; whether I drink vodka or not. Even when I was a buck twenty, my face was full and lacked definition.

When you are young these oddities cause you great emotional distress. Your chances of always being picked last, skipped over or run from all together are great and not exaggerated. And as you grow up that doesn't really change; but with age comes wisdom and now you understand it is the unfamiliar that people pick last, skip over and run from. Pied beauty can be scary.

My sort of, everydayish grocery store is Ingles. It is on my way home; they are renovating and I am always impressed with the choices the store offers. It is a hard working grocery store. What I am unimpressed with at Ingles is that no matter what produce I am purchasing, the check out girl always has to ask, "what is this?"

"What are these?"

" Beets."

"These are?"

"Shallotts"

"Umm, Squash?"

"No, Rutabaga."

It is how every checkout session goes. On a side note, I am worried about the diet of the Madison County teenager.

The ignorance of the checkout girl notwithstanding; the produce section is a lot like life.

Everyone b-lines it to the broccoli and asparagus; the blondes and brunets of the produce world; or the zucchini and yellow squash, more variations there of, with long legs. There are the potatoes; Idaho = the 'about average'; Sweet = the 'athletic and toned'; fingerlings = the 'athletic & toned foodie'. On to the lettuces; Iceberg = manufactured home, Roman = Brick; Mixed baby greens = Country Club living with Manicured Lawn.

You get the idea.

I suppose if I were produce I would be Rutabaga.

It has strange coloring, an uncooperative shape and is unfamiliar.

But if you choose it, and take the time to peel away at the tough exterior...

...warm it till it softens a little, then add your own version of comfort (cream maybe), and joy (butter is always an option) ...

...you will end up with something unique, rich with texture, vibrant...

...that can accompany you through the familiar (pan seared pork) and unfamiliar (Sherry Dijon Cream Sauce)...

...happenings that happen in this life.

I will see you in the produce department...the question is, where?

August 26th ~ Bacon Jam, 'Nuff Said!

2012-08-26T14:57:00.002-05:00

There are few things in life you can count on to be true. Especially in an election year! But there is no denying that everything is better with Bacon. Or Bacon makes everything better which ever way you want to go, it is the Gospel Truth!

And to prove it, I have made Bacon Jam!

OK, not that kind of Jam...

THIS kind of Jam!!!

Where has this been all my life, indeed!

So I cook the 1 lb of bacon down, remove it from pan and set aside saving all meltdown for the rest of the goodies. I chopped two small onions, 1/2 of a red pepper that was labeled as a Serrano in the produce department but was rung up as a $4 organic pepper. It tasted unlike a Serrano and not worth $4 but I thought it could offer color and balance to the onion.Chopped 4 cloves of garlic too, added a shake or two of paprika, cayenne pepper, and black pepper, then about a a couple tablespoons of cider vinegar.

All the recipes I found do some variation of brown sugar, bourbon and maple syrup. But I pulled out my own secret weapon...

...OH yeah! That is Fireball Cinnamon Whiskey!

I slow cook it all down then add the bacon back in. I let it simmer on low for another hour; all along tweaking the flavors.

Then I take it off the heat and let it rest. After it has cooled a bit I put it in the blender.

...It is like a dream...

Life changer here folks!

August 22 ~ In Hindsight...

2012-08-22T21:06:00.000-05:00

So, I see where Bob's Small Town Grille is hiring a line cook, again. I didn't apply this time. He is getting specific, 'experienced' line cook; aka, Hey Red, Please Don't Apply, Again. (or "Ever Again" is how it makes me feel). Though I am confident, this 'restaurant' has no idea who I am.

Ya know, that is OK. What was I thinking anyway? A little under a year ago, I had this idea to change my life. I drove 10,000 miles shedding everything that was familiar; preparing myself for this new life. I have practiced my chopping, my sauteing, my braising, my grilling... every week. I have learned what depouillage, emincer, and fleurons mean, even if I don't really know how to say these words. I write about and I talk about it and I study it and I dream about it...but Bob is right. I have not experienced it.

I wish BSTG knew that he has nothing on Maude Fisher and Green Shutter Tearoom. And that there is nothing he can teach me or wish I would know that Maude didn't already teach when I was 13; she even prepared me for river rats in string bikinis and muddy trunks that can 'no class' your tiny cafe///we cooked on a wood stove there, so I couldn't get experience 'on the line'. BSTG probably doesn't have anything on Judy Fountain who taught me how to run a station/section like my life depended on it. The proper way to clear a table; the pride of a properly bused set of tables; fully stocked station to pay off at the Dillard House Jr.. Those skills paid my bills through my 20's...all those restaurants later...

But other then yelling 'this gravy is cold', 'steak is over done', 'they ordered onion rings not baked potato'; I have no idea what it takes to be a line cook...at of end of the day I don't really want to be a line cook. I want to see you love food for its infinite gifts ~ nourishment, memories, creativity, thoughtfulness....

Maybe that is only possible at the Freckle Face Cafe?? Maybe it is only possible to see what you want by what you create for yourself. Maybe it isn't about having to be a part of something that is out there ..maybe it is about waiting for the right time to share a part of you...

August 19th ~ Pork Chops on a Stick

2012-08-19T17:55:00.001-05:00

Years ago I was at the Kentucky State Fair in Louisville covering the World's Grand Championship Horse Show for an industry publication. The show is held in the storied Freedom Hall. The Fairgrounds are huge but because I was working I only got to see the parts that had to do with the Horse Show. It is a spectacular show by the way, if you are a horse enthusiast, or Shorts person in general. The only other thing I got to partake in at the show was the famous Pork Chop sandwich!

I have never been able to capture the perfection of this sandwich, but in honor of the 108th Kentucky State Fair going on now, I am making Grilled Pork Chops on a Stick and Corn on the Cob with scallion butter

Yum!

I found two nice boneless chops at the market.

Then rubbed them down in my favorite spices.

I used smoked paprika, garlic, red pepper, chili powder, brown sugar and some more secret stuff. I also first dipped in bourbon.

Soak your corn, still in stalk, and then put on the grill. I put it on the top rack. About 15 minutes later, I put the chops on, after I have have pushed a water soak stick through the long part of the chop.

Once the corn is cooked, you can start the butter.

The butter is just chopped green onions, salt and cracked pepper.

Once the chops are grilled to your liking, let them stand for 5 minutes. Then plate up and you are immediately transported to your favorite Summer Fair!

Enjoy!

August 8th ~ The Fullness of Empty

2012-08-08T17:39:00.000-05:00

If you have followed my blogs for a while, then you know of the Little Grey House. If you have not, the Little Grey House is where I live and where Bortle family memories have been made for over 20 years. Our parents moved to this house once my siblings and I were all grown. It was meant to move my parents closer to my father's Dialysis treatment center when he was living and struggling. It became a place that has defined me. But that is for the memoir, not the blog.

Lately, a cluster of loved ones have been staying with me at the Little Grey House. They are in transition from one house to another. I have enjoyed it. There has been a steady flow of a sweaty 9 year old boy; 14 year old girl with a big singing voice and a small need for disorder, a funny, unorganized year 15 year old it girl and a grown up with the weight of the world sitting on those broad, capable shoulders. Oh and not to mention the calico cat who likes you to turn the faucet on low stream every morning; the silly red cat who likes to spread the kitty litter into the next room and the bunny who is beyond supper soft but doesn't like squash in any form.

Louie and I adjusted to the company ~ though me more then him. He doesn't understand the cats in the house and him outside, not to mention what the hell is a rabbit doing in the house, he chases those for kicks. He has had to adjust as have the visitors ~ New beds, new pillows, new stuffed animals, new rules, new layout; where will I sleep, where are the towels, I forgot my bunkie, Aunt Sharyn wants us to clean the bunny cage every day, do I have clean underwear?

Today however, the last of their items were loaded in the truck and the Little Grey House is again quite and empty. And as I watched the truck drive away I reflected, wiping away the 'miss you already' tears ~ I had lovely people to cook for; there was Rhubard Oatmeal; burger night, an awesome pasta night, trout and fresh vegys, and on and on. On this last day there was Grilled Cheese sandwiches and peanut butter smothered apple slices to send them on their way.

I walked back into the house and it is eerily quite and wide opened. Yet when I listen closely I hear the laughter of the 9 yr old, the sobs of the 14 year old, the gears shift on the 15 year old and the grown-up's sigh of comfort. And, I know instantly, like mac and cheese, this Little Grey House has done its Job.

There is fullness all around me. I bump into plans, cry fests, inside jokes and warmth; there is little room for me and my nonsense. The Little Grey House is empty of possessions but FULL of Love, home cooked meals and, bunny food!! It is a beautiful (point of) view here at the Little Grey House...

~ Crawling Along

2012-07-29T19:23:00.003-05:00

I am a little behind on getting out this 'review' of last weekends events. I had to go from the Clayton Crawl straight to a week long training and have just returned home. But I do want to share a few things with you from last weekend.

Last weekend I drove to Rabun County to hangout out at the Clayton Crawl. Myself and a couple of girlfriends hooked up and headed out to this annual, yet young, event. Basically what happens is this mountain town, where I dragged town and sipped Boones Farm on more then one occasion during the eighties, shuts down main street and lines up tables and tents housing local wine from the nearby vineyards and cuisine from the local restaurants.

You start off at the front gate and you pick a glass;

A wine glass or a beer glass. Oh, yes, this year they added beer. Then, you pay $15 and you get your glass. From there you are free to take your glass to every booth along the crawl and someone will happily fill it for you. As it turned out, there was only one beer vendor there. Even though I had chosen a beer glass, I didn't want to wait in that long line so I enjoyed wine in my beer glass all evening long. It was a crisp, lovely summer Moscato. I got a little confused because it kept appearing booth after booth so I am not sure if it came from the same vineyard or multiple vineyards produced the same thing with the same label and everything; or I was having my glass filled too many times.

I have no idea about the beer. But like I said, the line spoke to its popularity.

OK, now the food. You had to buy tickets to purchase the food. Which just seemed like extra work considering the 2-3 block party. The only thing I am going to say about the food is that I thought it would be so much better given the fact that several of the mother ships were actually on the same street. But non the less; I didn't fill up on food at the Clayton Crawl.

I did however fill up on food at the Universal Joint. This restaurant is in an old mechanic's garage and has great outdoor seating, a slightly bitter waitress and a phenomenal pimento cheese plate. This place also sported the boy who was widely considered the best looking boy in the class of '80 something (yeah the actual year would give it away and that would be crass). I can say thank God for 'progressive' lenses. It is worth noting that the Joint did have a table at the Crawl as well but I didn't get to it before the group decided we needed to sit down and rest from Crawling.And as a side note from a band groupie; this is the best place in town for live outdoor music. And I say that as if I know if there is any other venue that offers outdoor venues for bands.

A block away and an hour later we ended up at a bar with boys.

Boys who swore to us their mothers made sure they learned ballroom dance but neglected to say they only retained two moves. Good young men non the less.

There was something nice in the swing dance and fraternity shots that said hey, we got your back and this is a good band; so that made that stop a really sweet memory. And of course a really cruel hangover.

The next morning we searched for some fried food and a Bloody Mary. We found uncooked Fried Green Tomatoes and a town that doesn't serve alcohol on Sundays (remember it is city by city not county by county. Clayton = Bloody Mary; Rabun Gap (where we were staying) = Water with Lemon).

The only thing I am going to say about the dining establishment we chose for our Sunday meal is this: It is a restaurant that used to be a bank and Judy Fountain sure didn't train those waitresses!

When I was driving home to Athens in my car with the faulty air conditioning I thought about the great fun, great food, great wine and sure, the great free shots.But mostly I thought about how much a trip to those Mountains feeds that Soul and how it is really cool to retrace the KEDs Steps you once took, now, with your worn black boots and strong, beautiful women who knew you then and know you now...and still wanna hang with you.

July 20th ~ My Belly's Doing Flip-flops!

2012-07-20T22:36:00.002-05:00

Yes, one would think this was the best part of my day! But wait there is more.

Today was my birthday and my niece and nephew who have been hanging out with me this week treated me to my favorite local restaurant, Bob's Small Town Grille in Royston, GA.I arrived home from work to a beautiful handmade card and a glass of wine and the news of where they were taking me. Those kids are good!

When we arrived at BSTG we were greeted by the best waitress ever, I have no idea why I didn't ask her name. We decided on the Blackened Shrimp over Cheesy Ranch Grits special; a Salmon BLT and Lobster Ravioli for appetizer.

The Lobster Ravioli was so good and gone so fast that I didn't have time to figure out the camera on my new phone. So I don't have a picture of it. But our awesome waitress did bring us bread to sop up the extra sauce after my niece said 'I could eat a smoothie of that stuff'!

Then our Shrimp and Grits came.

Oh my Lord. It was like my stomach started cartwheels just at the sight of it. I kept thinking of that childhood song, Goody Goody Gumdrops, My Heart is Doing Flip-flops...but inserted Belly for Heart!

The Salmon BLT went the way of the Lobster Ravioli. Once we sliced it in thirds, tasted it, oohhed and aahhed, it was gone and we forgot to get a picture. But trust me it was so yummy!

But of course the best part was, K-Poo;

and the Quarterback!

Yeah, we got the Red Velvet Cheesecake to go...we didn't want to embarrass ourselves in front of Bob and the world's best waitress as we dove in face first!

Ya'll gotta go there I am telling you! Live music tomorrow!! Check it out, I think Elvis will be in the building!

Sans Coconut, Shrimp Ceviche

2012-07-15T17:44:00.001-05:00

For this entry I wanted to make Ceviche. So I Googled recipes and landed on one called Shrimp Ceviche in Coconuts...I just so happened to have a coconut on my kitchen counter.. I know, coconuts aren't usually hanging around so I have to make this recipe right? Even though it is from Tyler Florence (I can't decide if he is pretentious or not...or do I get him confused with Bobby Flay?), I am going for it.

I gather my ingredients:

Cilantro, Serrano peppers, limes, a lemon, garlic, bay leaves, red onion, salt and peppercorns; which I am out of so we have to use the ones in the pepper grinder that I can't get out without grinding. So, we will variate. And I am sure I am not using that word in context.

Shrimp, that coconut and Dad's hammer.

And a can of coconut milk.

It starts with putting a halved lemon, three bay leaves, salt, pepper (uncorned), and garlic added to water that is brought to a boil.

Now I get very confused because I thought ceviche is 'cooked' through citrus juices but instead Tyler is telling me to poach my shrimp. Since I don't have 7 shows on the Food Network, I oblige. But I question why I don't have a show of course.

The shrimp are only poached for 2 minutes even though the recipe says 3-5. Then I put them in the fridge to chill. Now, I mix the coconut milk, chopped peppers, lime juice, cilantro and red onion.

Then after the shrimp has cooled, I slice it down the middle and add it to the mixture; let refrigerate for an hour.

OK, so now I go to work on the Coconut. Tyler says to tap it with a hammer along its equator and eventually it will split down the middle.

Apparently I have a Coconut for Dummies as the equator is clearly marked on mine!

I commence to tapping and tapping and more tapping and then remember it did say, eventually!

Finally it cracks opened and it looks like I am going to have to back up and punt.

I think this is passed its prime. That is what you get for buying a coconut just because it is in the grocery store, where in my grocery store it never is. I had no plan for it and now I am paying for it. This is what I come up with.

I am going to sit on the porch with a white wine spritzer and eat my Sans Coconut Shrimp Ceviche!

It is really very refreshing! Try it, tell me what you think!

July 4th ~ Red, White & Blue Burgers!

2012-07-04T12:05:00.001-05:00

Happy 4^th of July everyone. This is a favorite holiday of mine. I have fond memories of our family gatherings on this holiday and as all our family gatherings go; it is all about the food. Today I am sharing with you the Red, White & Blue Burger; I made up the name and stole the idea from Guy Fieri. I saw a segment with him on The Today Show where he made these burgers he called the Outside In Burger. Over the years I have made them with several different combinations of ‘insides’ but in honor of the 4^th, we will go with this version.

Yeah, go ahead and get your beer on ice too.

You will need ground beef, blue cheese, red onion, salt and pepper to make these burgers.

I take the meat and form a boat.

Fill the boat with blue cheese.

Then a grilled red onion

And then I make a boat of beef for the top and form it so no one has any idea it is stuffed!

Now let it hit the grill. Be sure not to ever puss down on your burger while you are grilling so you retain all the juices.

People cook their burger to their own liking but remember you have some cheese to melt in there so give it enough time for that.

Now I serve it with watercress, a fresh herb mayo and sliced tomato.

And a cold beer of course.

Honestly, no matter how I have ever made this burger...stuffed with cheddar and bacon, chorizo and jalapenos; mushroom and Swiss...it is always a big hit. You can't go wrong, I promise.

I am making these for the 4th, because I am practicing for the day Bob's Small Town Grill calls me to help on Burger Night. What are you cooking for the 4th?

Be safe and eat well!

June 17th ~ Heaven's Rich Pageant

2012-06-17T11:25:00.000-05:00

There is always a bit of trivia I remember about Father's Day falling on June 17^th. Although, I don't know if it is still true to this day, when we lived there, it was the last time it snowed on Father's Day in North Dakota. I try to remember everything about Father's Days past as I no longer have my Dad here to celebrate. I try to remember everything about him.

If you have lost your Dad, I don't know if this is true for you. But, I miss my Dad more today then I did when he first left. The hole just keeps growing. It is an ocean of loss. You don't really understand what you have lost at the time of the loss. Your loss is all past; you won't celebrate birthdays or Father's Days anymore. You don't imagine that you won't have that warm hand with the weathered skin to hold when you are drowning in the struggles of life as an adult. You don't know then that as you chase your dreams and stumble through the life surrounding you, you will want to ask Dad; hey how did you open that sandwich shop those years ago; and how did you pack up the family and journey from the big city of New York to the vast prairie of North Dakota? Where did your courage come from; your strength? How did you endure so much pain and sickness and still remain the most graceful person in the room? What is the song they used in the REM video you appeared in? How did you make such perfect fried eggs? I adored my father when he was living, but wasn't always listening; in the loss of him I listen to every breeze and every heartbeat for the sound of his voice.

I think about the richness of heaven and how it is ultimately the dream trip I hope to take one day. Forget Ireland or Australia; heaven seems to be where all the lovely people are. Since Dad lives there I image it has Holsteins and Appaloosas; chili and Schlitz; the open road and family gatherings; laughter about grease on door knobs; a jukebox with Anne Murray and Statler Brother's songs; lakes for fishing; oceans for swimming; prayer and forgiveness;

My Dad was a man of tradition. So, for tradition's sake, I made him breakfast. Bacon & Eggs with pumpernickel toast; careful to keep the yolks runny.

Then I sat on the porch with him and my coffee, listening; resigned to the fact that I will have puffy eyes tomorrow. And that, I suppose, is how you know just how rich you really are.

I hope this is a happy day for Father's everywhere.

June 10th, Comfort in the Rain

2012-06-10T17:58:00.000-05:00

It is a rainy day in Georgia, and a Sunday to boot. Otherwise known as, a homebodies perfect day. There is nothing more to want then comfort food and a nice wine. It is a day to pull out the old records or watch travel and cooking shows on PBS or to read something other then my How to Open & Operate a Financially Successful Personal Chef Business book; something like Far From the Land or Rewards and Fairies or People Magazine.

There isa flurry of activities that are going on everywhere; my niece is celebrating her 14^th birthday; another is studying for the MCATs; one cousin is graduating from high school, another is holding his twins at their Baptism; the French Open will resume tomorrow and I'll Have Another is headed to greener pasture. But it is quite here. Louie is at my feet, earnestly trying to scratch that itch; the rain hits the tin like a playful love affair and Il Volo is serenading the little gray house via UNC TV.

Now, I will make that comfort food and drink a nice wine. Please, pull up a chair. It is a Mid-westerner's version of a Southern Vegy Plate menu, with a little Pinot Noir. Here is where we hope to end up:

The beans will take the longest to cook. I love dried Northern Beans, because they don't sell dried Midwesterner Beans. Rinse them well:

I do a quick boil on the beans to cut down on cooking time.

Cover beans with water and bring to a boil. At full boil, allow 2 minutes, then turn off, remove from burner, and let sit for 1 hour.

Once the hour is up, I add olive oil, fresh sage, garlic, and salt and pepper to the beans,

Then add enough water to cover the beans by at least 2 inches.

Now for the turnip greens, rinse the heck out of those!

Then, I put a little olive oil, bacon fat, garlic and salt and pepper in the bottom of a pot,

... break apart your rinsed greens and toss them in this mixture. I don't add any water or any more moisture because I don't dry the greens after rinsing them.

I will salt and pepper throughout the cooking, and also add a few red pepper flakes for kicks; or a little kick.

You will want some cornbread with this dish...I am pretty darn sure! A few sliced tomatoes makes everything Southern. But I like the sage and garlic in the beans as a Northern Italy twist on the beans and the variation on the greens ain't bad either.

I hope this brings you comfort on your rainy days.

June 3rd, Tequila!

2012-06-03T18:05:00.001-05:00

If you are a follower, then you know I am scared of birds. Petrified, frozen in my tracks scared. The other day I had the ultimate drama at my house. I was filling Louie"s water bowl (if you are a first time reader, Louie is the canine version of the love of my life) from a large mug; and I had extra water. So, without thinking I tossed the water in the direction of a front porch plant. Before I could possibly take the toss back, I had hit a small bird with the water; knocking it out of the plant and onto the yard. All Louie saw was a flying object; so he thought someone was playing a game with him and of course pounced on the bird. It was a traumatic few moments that I do not have the tools to manage. It didn't take Louie long to realize that the bird was not a tennis ball; but the damage had been done to an all important wing. The bird was still, Louie was still and I was yelling things like, 'oh, for the love of God fly little bird, fly'; 'please don't haunt me'; 'shoo, fly, please don't peck me to death';'Louie look at what you have done; are you kidding me?' and on and on...Flashbacks to the cock fighting rooster pecking away at my three year-old Auburn hairline emerge.

These types of experiences only add to the trauma of cooking fowl. I remember an episode of Chopped on Food Network where Black Chicken was a secret ingredient in the basket; I have never changed a channel so quickly in my life. Or the time whole, feather ducks were featured on Iron Chef...I could throw up right now.

But it is my quest to be Bob's Small Town Grill when I grow up so I soldier on in my perfection of fowl recipes. Today I am attempting to replicate the Tequila Lime Chicken Sandwich with Guacamole and Bacon that I learned from one of my favorite cooking blogs; Closet Cooking. Yeah, not what you are thinking...this blog is about cooking in a kitchen the size of a closet. Which I can relate too; well, my space is large, but I have one burner I can count on and the oven is always hit or miss so I can relate. But Kevin of Closet Cooking and I are great illusionists, I believe. No one really knows what goes on in my life or my kitchen; but there tends to be enjoyable things that emerge from both. So here goes; abracadabra!

This sandwich has jalapeno mayo, tequila and lime marinated grilled chicken, guacamole and bacon...what is not to love.

Start with marinating the chicken.

Tequila, lime juice and zest, garlic, jalapeno, cilantro, olive oil and salt and pepper run through a food processor... if you can let if soak overnight, all the better.

For the Mayo take a couple jalapenos with garlic, lime juice and cilantro and roast it in the oven for 30 minutes or so;

Then send it all to the food processor as well and blend with about a 1/2 cup of mayo.

Get your bacon cooking...

...and your coals are rocking your chicken cutlets...

Prepare your guacamole and gather up your mayo. I feel like every time I make guacamole i do it differently; yet is always turns out yummy. I think it is just one of those things that you really can't go wrong with. Avocado, lime, garlic, cilantro, salt and pepper.

Now, the chicken is ready so we just need to build our sandwich~ spread the mayo on the bun, lay a lettuce leaf, then your chicken, a nice slice of tomato, your guacamole and then that bacon!!

What do you think? Will I ever be Bob's Small Town Grill Material?

Oh, and the bird, Louie sat with it for hours, occasionally licking its forehead, until it felt comfortable to fly off...That is why Louie is the canine version of the love of my life.

May 27th, Memorial Day Burgers!

2012-05-27T13:14:00.000-05:00

Everyone has their favorite Sunday Dinner that they look forward to. Mine is Hickory Smoked Whole Chicken stuffed with lemons, garlic, Rosemary and Thyme. I serve it with Butternut Squash Pesto. It is always a big hit; it is so elegant and lovely and yummy but surprisingly easy to make. For the Memorial Day Holiday I think folks usually want less fan fair for their Bar B Que gatherings. So this is an attempt at reconstructing this culinary delight in a whole new, casual way.

For this holiday, I am grilling Turkey Burgers made with fresh herbs & lemon and topped with a Butternut Squash & Garlic Mayo.

I toss 1 lb of ground turkey in a bowl, and throw in some finely chopped fresh Rosemary and Thyme as well as the juice and zest of one lemon.

Then I add a not so full tablespoon of breadcrumbs to help bind the burgers and one large minced garlic clove.

I loosely fold all of this together with some salt and pepper, then refrigerate while I prepare the squash. If you do the squash first you still want to refrigerate your meat; it just helps it not fall apart on the grille.

Wash your squash then cut into pieces. I cut a few rings as well for a side dish. I rub each piece with garlic, sprinkle salt and pepper on top and then top with olive oil. I also leave garlic pieces to cook along side the squash in the foil that we will place on the grille.

I let the squash cook on the grill for about 45 minutes. That time just depends on how large your pieces are. I have a dial on my grille that tells when it is at optimal heat so that is how I know my grille is ready. Your coals also give tells; though I am still learning those.

Now you are ready to make the burgers. I top again with salt and pepper and brush with olive oil for the grille.

I go ahead and put a few Butternut Squash rings on the grill as well. Turkey burgers do not take very long to cook. So you can't go and try to set up your new inflatable pool, which I may or may not have done, while these were cooking.

As I lost track of time, when I checked them, they were magically ready.

Make sure that is a clean plate...

Now it is time to make the Mayo. We have let the squash cool. Then I put mayo, garlic powder, salt, pepper and the butternut squash in a bowl and whip it up.

So good!

Now we are ready to build a burger baby! Start with a toasted bun, and a dollop of your mayo.

I add the burger, a nice slice of tomato and a slice of grilled onion. Then another dollop of mayo.

Sorry for the blur...I was excited!

I will serve this today with a mixed green salad and the grilled Butternut Squash rings drizzled with nothing more than oil and vinegar.

The Butternut Squash Mayo is just a lovely exclamation point! I hope everyone has a safe Memorial Day and that if you are gathered with friends and family, I hope you enjoy good food, each others company, and the freedom we are afforded by the brave men and women who brought it to us.

Try them, then tell what you think!

Recipe:

Burgers

1 lb ground turkey

1 spring fresh rosemary

1 spring fresh thyme

1 lemon

1 large garlic clove

1 not so full tablespoon breadcrumbs

salt and pepper

Butternut Squash Mayo

1 medium sized butternut squash cut in pieces

3 tablespoons mayo

1 teaspoon garlic powder

salt and pepper

Additional

good burger buns; sliced tomatoes, and sliced onions – grilled.

Mixed greens

Oil and Vinegar

May 20th, Inspired Dishes

2012-05-20T15:25:00.003-05:00

This has been a busy weekend. My niece, Katie, graduated from 8th grade on Friday night; then rocked it out at Ram Jam with her band on Saturday night.

Here is a little dish on this fireball that inspires me. When she was a little girl she was a night owl. I bunked at my brothers for a few months when I moved back to Georgia a little over 10 years ago. When I would get home from a late night of work I could count on Katie to sneak out of her bed and come down the stairs, sucking her thumb threaded with her silky bunky, to snuggle with me while we watched Letterman.

When she turned 10, I took her to Last Resort for a 'fancy' birthday lunch and the server commented on how impressed she was with Katie's manners ~ she ordered the Crab Cakes by the full name instead of just saying, “I'll have the Crab Cakes”; she said please and thank you without any prompting and she managed to keep her elbows off the table the entire meal. All of which I am not sure I accomplished.

When I first heard Katie perform her music it was on the main stage at AthFest ~ which is a pretty big deal in the music scene of a pretty big deal music town ~ Athens, GA. I never even knew she wanted to sing or could sing. I was nervous. Then, once she cranked up on her lead vocal performance of Pat Benatar's Heartbreaker, all the crowd started to flock to the stage from the art booths and beer gardens and BMX demonstrations and my hands were shaking while I tried to take a video because I was crying pride tears. The more I see her perform the more inspired I become. Maybe I had something to do with preparing her for the rock star life with all those late nights of snuggling.

Now, I am tooling around the yard and house searching for inspiration for what to cook for dinner today and I happen upon this:

...and this...

...and finally this...

...so I made this...

...because I have been inspired to prefect these...

...and that is a good way to spend a few days!

May 13th, Mother's Day Pancakes

2012-05-13T13:36:00.001-05:00

Today is Mother's Day so in honor of my mother I am digging deep into my cooking archives all the way back to the first time I ever cooked for the public. I was 10 years old and was making Butterfly Pancakes for my 4H presentation. I earned a 2^nd place ribbon but am confident these pancakes were first place material; I just couldn't figure out how to hold my mirror at the end so the judges could see the magic.

Thank goodness we don't need the smoke and mirror trick now!

The coolest thing about these pancakes is that they have been a staple of my arsenal all these years since that 10 year old, red ribbon day. They have stood the test of time.

I have loved cooking them as a young daughter for Mother's Day and Father's Day breakfasts in bed. I have made them for the kids when I was a nanny, hoping to impress them. And my favorite has been to create them with my nieces and nephews over the years, hoping they could see in the wings just how much I adore each of them.

So to get started, you gather up your favorite pancake mix.

Or in my case, I picked Hungry Jack Wheat Blend because it was on sale, you only need to add water and it sounds more nutritious.

With this recipe you can choose to have syrup or not since we are going to make a sauce to die for it, you don't really need it.

OK, so the pancake mix is for the wings, now we need a body. So start your link sausages up in a pan. They take the longest to cook. Even longer then the sauce.

For the sauce...it's back...Rhubarb!

You will also need strawberries, sugar to taste (I love to taste the authenticity of the Rhubarb, but some folks need more sweetness, fine either way), a lemon slice and medium high heat.

And just stir occasionally to help it along. You may be tempted to add a liquid, but remember, Rhubarb has a lot of moisture so you really don't need any.

Let's see, the sausage are getting close, the sauce is simmering; let's start our wings! Just follow the directions on the box.

Because it is a celebration, I am going to cook my pancakes in some butter. But a spray Pam is just fine.

Ah, you can see all the imperfections of my pan...just think of the lovely mouths this pan has fed...or poisoned, depending on the nature of their visit and how much wine I may have had.

Now, pour in your batter, and wait for the holes to appear.

This obviously is not my test cake...that one was a hot mess....but I encourage you to go a head and count on one test cake when you are measuring in the beginning. This way you can practice the perfect flip.

I would have shown you that in slow motion but I can't flip and hold the camera at the same time. If I could I would surely be on Food Network, or America's got Talent.

Now, let's take our Butterfly out of its cocoon. I stacked two pancakes here.

Incidentally, it is laid out on my Mom and Dad's wedding china.

Then cut the stack down the middle and turn each half out to make the wings.

Add the body.

The antenna.

I am using Rosemary today, which I also added a pinch of to the sauce (ancient Freckle Face secret).

Now, we can add the sauce and decorate the plate.

I wish I could explain to you just how decadent this sauce is. I made enough to go on Vanilla Bean ice cream that I may treat myself too later; since after all, I am a God Mother...Leave the Gun, take the Rhubarb sauce...

Happy Mother's Day!

May 6th

2012-05-06T19:21:00.001-05:00

Rhubarb three ways! Who Knew?

Rhubarb holds a dear place in my heart. It reminds me of a place, both in land mass and time, where I was completely happy and unaffected by the burdens of life. That place was Battleview, North Dakota and that time was childhood...pancakes topped with Rhubarb sauce, Rhubarb Custard pie...the rich black dirt where the Rhubarb grew, sticking to my fingers...burying King Kelly of Rockland County, our German Shepard, in the same rich soil...I thought it would make him come back to us, like the Rhubarb, year after year.

These days, whenever Rhubarb hits the produce section of my local grocery store it baffles the checkout girls. “What is this?” is usually what I hear, or “no, it isn't unripe celery”, is what I have to say. I love a vegy that baffles! And yes, it is actually a vegy. But when it first came to the US it went westward with the settlers as an ingredient for pies or jams so here it is classified as a fruit. In Central Asia, I think it has some medicinal purposes; and it is eaten raw, dipped in sugar by the Scandinavians. However, I might be making these things up because I want it to be thought of as worldly.

I made a Rhubarb Cheesecake a few years ago and one of my nieces, Jessica, just loved it and asks me all the time to make it again. So in honor of her upcoming dance recital, I am going to make a Rhubarb Swirl Cheesecake. When I made it before I had never made a cheesecake, I am not much of a baker. It is too restricting to me. I am a dash here, pinch there kind of cook. Baking is way to precise for me. But, Jessica is worth the focus. Then, I am going to try making beef brisket tacos with a sweet and heat slaw that uses Rhubarb and Jalapenos!

I am going to start with the cheesecake because that is what I have the best chance of screwing up.

First we are going to rinse, then chop the Rhubarb, very small pieces.

I have seen Rhubarb desserts made with large pieces that make it look like celery that is too big for its soup. It can be off putting. I feel like food is 75% presentation so, you do the math.

I use a few lemon slices because I think it helps the Rhubarb keep its color though I don't really know; but also, it is a nice compliment to Rhubarb. Then, just a couple teaspoons of sugar. Rhubarb is very watery so you don't need liquid necessarily to heat this up. Just a few drops of lemon juice, your sugar and your 'vegy'!

I bring it to a boil and it goes fast; in a matter of minutes it is exactly how I want it and I remove it from the heat and set it aside...

...by the way, you would not believe the smell in here! It is so pure ~ sweet, floral and crisp. I am instantly transported to 9 years old.

You can quickly make the crust. Melt butter and add crushed graham crackers...I use sugar and cinnamon topped graham crackers from the cookie isle at the grocery store.

Then, I just mash until it is pretty fine. I then press it into the springfoam pan and bake for 7-10 minutes in a 375 degree oven.

Now I take my room temperature cream cheese, two and a half packages (8 Oz), a cup of sour cream and a dash of vanilla extract and blend it.

I use sweetened condensed milk in lieu of sugar, just half a can. I am not actually sure why other then the fact that I don't normally have sugar in the house so I have gotten used to using the sweetened condensed milk.

Then, add two eggs.

Just blend for a minute.

Now, pour half into the pan,

Add half of the Rhubarb sauce, and swirl:

Then do another layer and you are ready to prepare for baking.

Wrap foil all around the bottom of your pan, then place in a pan with water covering the bottom:

Now it is ready to bake at 350 for one hour. Or until the center is almost set.

Once it is cooked, I let it cool for ten minutes, then run a knife around the pan to release the spring foam. I cool another hour and then I top it with a sour cream and Rhubarb glaze. I may or may not have burned the top, but you will never know with this rich solution!

Now it goes into the fridge for several hours.

OK, now for our Beef Brisket Taco's with Rhubarb & Jalapeno Slaw...

I just rub some spices on my brisket ~ paprika, tumeric, salt, paper, garlic powder, chyanne pepper and the secret ingredient ~ I rub it down in sweetened condensed milk. Then pop it in a 300 degree oven to cook slowly.

My slaw is really simple:

Green cabbage, shredded; chopped cliantro, diced jalapeno and diced Rhubarb tossed is red wine vineger and olive oil, salt and pepper.

.Once the meat is cooked, I toss it with cilantro and diced shallots.

Now it is time to eat!

Delish!

And Dessert...

I better wrap it up so there is some left for Jessica! Sooo yummy!!

Oh and for Rhubarb the third way I see from Webster's that using Rhubarb in the slang it means a heated debate, quarrel or fight. Anyone who has ever had to sit in a meeting with me where we are discussing something I am passionate about knows I am pretty capable of Rhubarb!

April 29th

2012-04-29T12:06:00.000-05:00

I am a person full of ideas. Sometimes I think I have too many ideas that they actually end up being a freezing mechanism rather then a freeing one. But none the less, I keep coming up with them. Here is the latest.

I work part time at Rattles & Rhymes, a baby furniture and accessories store in Athens, GA. One of the things I have observed over the few months that I have been there is the journey of a new parent. You meet them for the first time and they are excited, glowing; well rested. They are thoughtful in their choices. How much money they have to purchase a crib; how many sheets they will need; what to indulge on (Zucchini or Mud Pie?) and what to be no nonsense about (crib mattress, car seat).

From a retailer's perspective, there is a process you must indulge them in. You could potentially meet them for the first time when they are just coming from that first doctor's appointment where they have just found out they are expecting. Or, they are coming from the doctor's office where they have just found out if they are having a boy or a girl. There is a visit to the store where it is expecting mom with the proud Grandmother, who always wants to be the first one to buy the first item for the baby. The next time you see the expecting mom, she will come in with her best friend. This is the team that usually makes the decisions (best friend could be a girlfriend, sister or mother).

Once mom, with her budding belly, has made up her mind she then is on a quest to convince the husband and parents to also love her choices. Often times the grandparents are paying for a portion or all of the baby's furniture – and often there is a competition between the expecting mom's parents and the in-laws. The expecting mom does some indulging of her own, saying to her husband, 'honey, sit in this glider and tell me if you like it'. Even though everyone in the room knows he better say, 'I love it honey'; 'whatever you want honey', or some variation there of.

Then finally, the expecting family comes to the patient, observant retailer, ready to write up the order. You have to let them go through their own journey to purchase. It is the only way, in my opinion, to ensure that they will be completely happy with the purchase. In this type of retail, I believe you are nothing more then a cheerful resource. If you become too interested in selling and not as interested in happy, well informed expecting parents, then you loose. The whole experience of bringing a new life into the world should be a delicious process from start to finish.(That is just my humble, shop girl opinion.)

Fast forward to the blessed event. The baby is born and the first time you see the new parents is usually when they are coming home from the hospital. This can be the mom and dad; but more often then not it is the new dad with his mom. You have to work to try to remember who they are because they look like they just rolled out of bed, even though they have not slept in days. They are wearing mismatched clothes with odd odors attached. They usually are in desperate need of something to do with breast feeding/pumping. There is no regard for cost. Suddenly the counter is full of breast shields, tubing or even two different kids of breast pumps if new dad has been sent in alone (don't worry, as the retailer, it is our job to talk them off the ledge, we don't send them home with two pumps). There will be a few soft cotton outfits added if Grandma is there and then some item to subtly tell the new mom 'this is what I think you should be doing'.

It is in seeing the customer in this light that gave me an idea. Wouldn't it be great if the expecting mom could register for prepared meals to be delivered to her house the first week she is home with her new baby. Or, have prepared meals available for those glassy eyed husbands and new Grandparents to also pick up with the odd assortment of breast pumping products. Of course they could get that at any restaurant or eatery; but I am talking about having it available at the same place they have to stop anyway.

It wouldn't have to be just available to new parents once the baby is home; but also those weeks before the baby comes when expecting mom's feet and ankles are so swollen she can't possibly stand in the kitchen preparing the family meal. Oh, there could also be a “Craving It” menu for the expecting mom's with those crazy cravings the husband is sent out to get at a moment's notice....see what I mean, the ideas just keep flowing.

So, what do you think? Could a From Pickles to Pumping Catering business be in my future?

April 21st

2012-04-21T19:20:00.001-05:00

My first job in a food environment was at the tender age of 13. It was at a place called Green Shutter Tearoom in Tiger, Georgia. The owner was an 84 year old woman who cooked everything on a wood stove. Yes, a wood stove. The restaurant was opened only in the summer, seven days a week. I had to be there at 6:30 in the morning and usually worked until 4:30 in the afternoon. I have forever held the secrets of Maude Fisher's cooking in the lock box that is my heart and mind. How she lured people from Texas to Canada, assuming they were getting farm raised meat and vegys, to come and taste her slow roasted beef tenderloin, 'new' potatoes and ridiculously good butter soaked green beans, will never be revealed by me. But, you could say, at a young age, I learned the reality of working in a restaurant. It has long hours, it is hard, challenging work, and it has its illusions.

To make someone happy ~ a satisfied palette, a full belly and a memory ~ is a tradeoff well worth that journey.

That first restaurant experience was about seeing happy customers through comfort food. Fast forward to when I was 19 and working at Athens Country Club; that experience was all about learning of the finer things in life ~ Beef Wellington, Trout en Papillote, white glove service and Scotch.

So in homage to my roots in good dining; I am attempting Trout en Papillote today...and you can rest assured, there is a secret or two that you won't be able to see or guess at ~ that is the magic of cooking!

I am going to start with a Steelhead Trout, salt and cracked pepper, and capers...

I know, right, it looks like Salmon...does this mean you really never do know what fish product you are getting at the supper market just like The Today Show reported?

At any rate, I am adding these ingredients...which will work whether I am a Salmon or a Trout...

There is lemon slices and a tablespoon of diced tomato, teaspoon of greek olive, chopped; smashed garlic glove and arugula sprigs. I layer the goodies on top of the fish.

Then, for what ever reason, I wrap it in the parchment paper like it is a burrito. Though, I am quite sure at the Club it was more of some elegant pocket.

I have always worked as a hostess or server once I left Ms Fisher's womb. Trying to recreate the treasures I have served patrons over the years is a challenge and a lot of fun. With that said, I don't remember what the chefs at Athens Country Club put in this papiolltte. I just remember slicing it open for the guests and being fixated on the aroma. You, as I did, can pick whatever ingredients you happen to have available to use with your fish. No matter what, it ends up being a cool presentation! And, because it is steamed in the paper the flavors just come alive like jumping beans.

Once it has baked in a 375 degree oven for 20 minutes, let it rest for a few minutes, then take a good knife and cut along the thick edge of your 'burrito'....

Once it is sliced open you can just sort of let the entree shimmy on out. You will have some lovely juice now too.

The aroma fills the air...

You will love this dish and appreciate how easy it is to do without a) breaking the bank and b) breaking the tradition of the dish. The key I think is picking fresh ingredients and flavors that lend a hand to one another. The fish is lovely and flaky !

Try it, and tell me how it went!

Good Luck and Eat Life Up!

April 14th

2012-04-17T13:09:00.001-05:00

Bob's Small Town Grille seems like the perfect place to work if you are happy about food.

So today I am perfecting my It is Thyme to Hire Me Pork Roast and Sweet Potato Risotto.

Where I have never eaten risotto prepared in a restaurant, it is always featured on Chef Gordon Ramsey's programs so I figured I better learn how to cook it. But truth is, I don't really know if I make it correctly since I have never eaten it prepared by anyone else.

I lived in Tennessee a while back and fell in love with the Bell Buckle Cafe. David Letterman sent Bif there to cover the RC Cola and Moonpie Festival the year I lived there; but that is not why I loved this place. I loved it because it was so sophisticated and so small town all at the same time. You could settle in to a comfy seat and order speckled beans, fresh from the garden squash casserole, grilled fish and a glass of wine. Downhome cooking with sophistication. And bonus; there was live music! The coolest thing about the Bell Buckle Cafe is that it is in the middle of nowhere and nothing. It sits in a town with a post office, a few antique stores and a boarding school. The town is one block. That is it. Oh, and there is the annual RC Cola and Moon Pie Festival.

It is similar to what makes Bob's Small Town Grille exciting. It sits in a town with a post office, a bunch of antique stores, a small private collage and a few fast food and meat and three establishments. But Bob's is unique. It lives and breathes in Royston; a tiny town on your way to South Carolina, and it is a must stop at establishment. You can go there and get Salmon BLT's or Mac N Cheese you would sell your first born for, great burgers and lovely daily specials with a nice glass of wine or cool new brew. And, there is live music from time to time as well.

Both restaurants are housed in old, storied buildings with great character. And the staff always make you feel like you have come to their house for dinner.

I want my niece Katie Girl's band play at these places...

...as both establishments are family friendly.

I realize these places are just the kind of place I would like to have one day. I have a lot to learn I know; so I get back to studying....

...and of course, plotting...what small town on the way to somewhere can I land? Maybe somewhere in the Midwest? Or in some sleepy little beach town? We will serve everything, from deviled eggs and creamy brie soup with a seared scallop, to mouthwatering outside-in burgers and creamy fig pasta. Katie Girl will be the house band!

Ok, so that is a little ways off...for now, if you are traveling the small town roads of Georgia or Tennessee, do check out these great culinary finds!!