This are looking up -- even if Rob isn't

This guy is Dexter, Colin's new dog. He and Fuser have found they have similar sensibilities -- if you can call a lot of licking each other's penis a sensitivity.


Actually Rob's eye is healing quite nicely. It helps that he's in overall good health--aside from the elevated cholesterol (My new goal in life; trying to convince Rob that green leafy vegetables aren't poisoned). Of course, he's going completely crazy sitting around the house, being unable to drive or do any strenuous activity. The doctor -- who thinks Lindsay is cute;-) -- said Rob is recovering well and his eye looks good -- well actually it looks pretty gross, but healing-wise it looks good.

I, on the other hand, have found out that the surgery I just went through was a complete and total waste of time. The doctor FINALLY decided to do an x-ray after the physical therapist said I wasn't getting any better and moved the post-op appointment up from the middle of March. The x-ray revealed that my knee is completely beyond repair, that I still have a big, old bone spur in the joint and that there was no hope that the surgery was going to do a thing. The doctor says the joint has "completely collapsed." And that MRIs sometimes make thing look better than they are. Seriously? We couldn't have x-rayed the damned thing BEFORE the last surgery?

Yes. I'm pissed. I have to get a knee replacement, which is severe. They actually are making me take a class before I get the surgery. Great. I have to sit around with a bunch of seniors -- I mean a lot more senior than me -- for two hours as we're told how to get our homes in order for post-op. Of course, I've just made it through tendon repair surgery, which had me on crutches for six weeks, so I think I have a pretty good idea of what I need to do to get ready. Actually this is easier because I'll be on two feet -- albeit hobbling, not just hopping around on a gimpy knee -- remember my bad foot is on the opposite leg as my bad knee-- the way I was after the tendon repair.

They gave me a big folder with pictures of Golden Girls all learning how to walk again. Great. They have a list of questions to bring to the class. I have some questions. What's the hospital's rate for staph infections? How about MRSA? The LAST place I want to spend any time is in the hospital, and this is an in-hospital operation. Plus, everyone, the doctors in the HMO system and people around town, say our local hospital sucks. Seriously. But if I push for going to L.A., my choice of a new knee is restricted by the HMO and I get a crap one, rather than the gender-specific one. So long-term, I'm (hopefully) better off here. At least the hospital has great views of the ocean and the mountains.

In the meantime, I'm hobbling around, very slowly and in a LOT of pain. As I was leaving to go to the doctor's, I said, "I'm going to run." My husband, the one-eyed wonder, said, "Run Forest Run!" Oh, and I STILL have the damned lump on my hip -- smaller, but still there.

So what's this good news I've heard tell about, you're wondering -- if you haven't gotten tired of my bitching -- well I FINALLY got some freelance work. Glory! Alleluia!

Kim, who is a dear, dear friend, has been pushing to get me some freelance work at the Star, so I've been picking up assignments for them. It's so great to be doing some writing. Besides this blog, I haven't been doing much, so it's so good to be back doing interviews and telling people's stories. I absolutely love these community-kind of stories because I love getting people to tell their tales and I have so much fun drawing those stories out and organizing them into compelling (hopefully) narratives.

On top of that I got an assignment from Sunset magazine. Back in October 2006, I'd emailed a former colleague who had gone on to become the web editor at Sunset Magazine -- one of my very favorite magazines ever. She referred me to another person there who did the custom publishing and he said he'd keep my name on file. Then I heard nothing, but I'm used to that since I've sent off about a zillion queries and job applications and rarely hear back. Well a few weeks ago, I got an email from a woman in Berkeley wanting to know if I wanted to do some fact-checking. Did I!!!!

So I spent a few weeks working on going through these tour guides fact-checking them. When I fact check, I make sure EVERYTHING is correct. If you say you went to a little place about 7 miles south of town, I Google map it and find out exactly where it is. If you tell me you had the rabbit al dente, I find out if it's still on the menu. If you say you can sit on a wrap-around patio, I find out if the patio does, in fact, wrap around. If you say you can eat lunch at a wooded park , I look at the satellite image to make sure there are trees at said park. It was tedious, hard work and it was a blast. So, hopefully, this will develop into something more.

Before I started my spate of work, I made up a couple more recipes. One is a Moroccan-inspired dish, made with dried apricots, chickpeas and chicken. It's designed to bring more healthy foods into our loves. The other is a pasta dish with roasted red pepper sauce.

Chicken with chickpeas and apricots
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 shallot finely diced
6 boneless, skinless chicken thighs, chopped into 1-inch pieces
1 can chickpeas (Garbanzo beans)
4 ounces dried apricots, chopped coarsely
1 teaspoon turmeric
1/2 teaspoon coriander
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1 cup chicken stock
1/4 cup heavy cream

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet. Add shallot and cook on medium heat until starting to become translucent. Add chicken and cook until starting to brown. Add spices and stir, heating through about 1 minute to let the flavors bloom. Add chickpeas and apricots. Add chicken stock and allow to simmer for about 15 minutes. Add cream and bring to boil. Serve. I used Trader Joes Harvest Grains blend, which was quite tasty.

Roasted red pepper pasta
1 pound penne pasta prepared al dente
3 large red bell peppers
olive oil spray
3 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons flour
2 cups milk
1 12-ounce package Trader Joe's Quattro Fromaggio cheese
1 cup cooked chicken, diced into 1/2 inch pieces
bread crumbs

Cut peppers in half and take out the seeds and white membranes. Flatten both halves by pressing down. Get them as flat as possible. Broil directly under the heated coil or flame until the pepper skin becomes black and bubbly and all of the skin on the pepper appears to have been cooked. Put peppers in a brown paper bag and let sit for about 10 to 15 minutes. Melt butter in large saucepan. Add flour and whisk, cooking over medium heat until the roux loses its raw taste. Add milk and whisk until the sauce begins to thicken. Peel the red peppers and process them in the food processor until they're finely chopped. Add the pepper mixture to the sauce. Salt and pepper the sauce to taste (It really doesn't need much because the cheese is pretty salty and the red pepper provides a lot of flavor.) Mix the sauce with the prepared pasta and pour the mixture in a 13 x 11 baking dish. Top with bread crumbs. Broil for just a few minutes until the top is brown and bubbly. Serve.

A peek into Rob's soul

... so after his four-hour surgery, Rob was wheeled into the after-hours recovery room and I wasn't able to see him until about 7:40 p.m. Bear in mind that I'd been waiting there since 11 a.m., on top of the hour and a half-plus commute. Finally, FINALLY, the chick at the reception desk decided to let us all go back to see our loved ones -- there were a couple other people there.

I went to find Rob and the sight of him, all pale and drugged, sitting up with his eye patch on and his gown half hanging off his shoulders was enough to break my heart. "Hi honey, " I said. "How are you feeling?"

"My butt hurts," he replies.

I get all concerned. "Your butt hurts? Maybe you're sitting too long in the same position."

"No. They penetrated me. We have to go after them."

Seriously?

You come out of anesthesia, when you're supposed to be as truthful as you'll ever be -- when we get a brief glimpse into your naked soul and THIS is what I get? Jokey the one-eyed clown? Sigh.

I told him the next day and he was inordinately proud of himself. He asked if he was quiet and I assured him that he was pretty much just blurting it out for all to hear.

Healthy living and -- yes -- more surgery (but not for me)

 

People have taken to telling me, "you have nowhere to go but up. Things HAVE to get better," but they're wrong. It keeps getting worse. While I've been getting surgeries, Rob started complaining that his eye was really bothering him. Rob hadn't seen a doctor in almost 20 years and he was in no hurry to go again, but when I explained that he was going to have to see a doctor to address his eye problem, which had been going on for a while, he didn't put up a fight.

I should have been worried, but I didn't really think too hard about it when I made his appointment. He saw a doctor on a Monday, was having blood work done -- we are, after all, in our 50s and we can only be assured we're healthy these days with blood work -- and he had an appointment with a optician the next day, which was a Tuesday. Apparently in the Wide World of Managed Care, you have to see an optician before you can be referred to a opthamologist. In Rob's case, the optician took one look and schleduled an emergency appointment for him immediately with the opthamologist.

Unlike my doctors, who tend to be -- how shall I put this kindly -- less than in the top tier of their profession, (not everyone can graduate at the top of his class -- right?) this guy is an Assistant Professor of Opthamology at Johns Hopkins -- big stuff. He took one look and started the wheels in motion to have Rob seen in the West L.A. Kaiser Permanente Medical Center because none of the facilities available to us Kaiser patients in Ventura or Santa Barbara counties are equiped to deal with the complexities of Rob's detached retina.

So Wednesday found us scrambling to make a 3 p.m. appointment in Smell A. after finding out about it at 2 p.m. because the appointment person is an idiot and had forgotten to call us. Surgery was scheduled for the next day, and Thursday Rob underwent a four-hour operation to repair his messed-up eye. He had to spend the night because his doctor didn't want him traveling to Ventura and then back to L.A. in the morning. For those who don't live in Southern California, traffic in the greater Los Angeles area is a constant disaster. There is always a jam and stop-and-go traffic.

Of course, with all that traveling back and forth and waiting around, I started having extensive bruising on my leg, along with a lot of pain. I've been assured that I'm fine and that I just overdid it, but that it's understandable under the circumstances.

So here were are. Rob had to sit with his head pointed down for a week so his eye could start to heal. He had his lens removed, along with the vitreous fluid in the eye, which was replaced by oil, and a band was placed around the entire eyeball. Now he has an eyepatch and I'm walking with a cane. We look like the Pirate Couple -- Peg Leg Anne and One-eyed Rob. He'll eventually get a new lens and the oil will be replaced.

On the bright side, we're both recovering well and have been assured that we will get better. My doctor says I should be able to avoid a knee replacement right away and Rob's doctor says he may regain some sight in his eye, although it won't be much.

Along with all of the drama, it was revealed that Rob's cholesterol levels are high -- no suprise in someone who seems to have an allergy to vegetables and whole grains. So we both need to start eating a little healthier. I can't express how happy I am to finally have something to hold over his head when I try out the millions of healthy recipe ideas I have floating around in my head.

I started out with a recipe I'd conceived when I first spotted the box of Diced Harvest Medley, which is squash, yams and turnips at Trader Joe's. When I spotted the bag of rainbow-colored Swiss Chard, my concept was complete and I came up with the following. This recipe is delicious and even Rob liked it, and he didn't complain that it was meatless.

Whole wheat pasta with balsamic Diced Harvest Medley, served with braised chard

1 pound whole wheat pasta, prepared al dente according to package instructions
1 package Trader Joe's Harvest Medley
3 to 4 tablespoons olive oil
salt to taste
1 small onion, diced
2 garlic cloved minced or passed through a garlic press
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
1 cup chicken stock
1 cup grated parmesan cheese
1 cup chopped hazelnuts, toasted for 6 minutes in 350 degree oven
Heat the oil in a Dutch oven. Add Harvest Medley and started cooking over medium high heat until startgin to brown. Salt, and add onions and cook, continuing to brown. Cook until starting to carmelize. Add garlic and and stir for about 30 second or a minute or until you can smell the garlic. Add the vinegar (keep your head away from the pot to avoid vineger nose) and add the chicken stock. Cover and simmer for about 20 minutes or until vegetables are fork-tender. Add to drained pasta and toss with cheese. Top finished dish with hazelnuts and serve with chard.

Braised chard with shallots

2 laarge shallots, finely chopped
4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 package Trader Joe's multi-colored chard
salt to taste
1 to 2 cups chicken stock
Red pepper flakes to taste

Heat the olive oil in a Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the shallots and cook unil translucent. Add package of chard and stir and toss, until starting to wilt. Salt. Add 1 cup of chicken stock and cover and simmer for about 15 minutes or unitl chard stems are fork-tender. Add red pepper flakes, toss and serve.

More fun in the kitchen

 

 

 

First: I had my knee surgery Monday. It went well, although my knee is pretty sore. It seems I had two meniscus tears because the little bone spurs I'm developing as the result of arthritis actually tore into the meniscus when I was hit by the truck. The doctor cleaned the whole mess up, including a floating object. The knee hurts a lot, but I can walk on it and am not nearly as incapacitated as I was after the tendon surgery. Time will tell whether this works. I still have a lump on my hip, although it's a lot smaller than before. It probably needs to be drained again. But overall I'm doing pretty well.

Whenever I'm feeling sad or nervous, I like to cook. I also like to cook when I'm happy, so I suppose it's an all-purpose outlet. I've put together a few recipes here that I made in the run-up to my latest operation. They're all pretty easy and they're quite tasty too. I had a lot of fun taking the pictures because Rob and I just went out and bought some square white serving plates, which really frame the food well.

It all started when Rob wanted to get one plate for himself -- one plate that he would use and NO ONE else could touch. So he went into the local Vons and came out with four square serving platters. I mentioned that these weren't the actual dinner plates (dumbass) he wanted and the quest was on. The square white plates had been on sale at local Vons and Rob was determined to get a set, again that only he could use. After he actually found the dinner plates, I decided we needed the salad plates and the square bowls. It's not like we actually needed new dinnerware, but once we started, we had to keep going until we had the whole set. We've found that food looks fabulous all arranged on the plates, so we're happy with our new purchases as we sit around pretending we're fine dining. Rob still insists he's the only one allowed to touch the plates, but I ignore him -- as I always do. After all, how much crediblity do you give a man who doesn't know the difference between a platter and a dinner plate?

Here is a trio of recipes that are easy, inexpensive and tasty. And they all look great on square white dishes.

The first is a standard recipe for me. I've been making some form of beef stroganoff since I was a kid and made it with hamburger. It's super easy and I just love how it tastes. The trick is to make sure not to boil the sour cream and to use a good quality white wine and sweet Hungarian paprika.

Beef stroganoff

3 tablespoons canola oil
2 pounds inexpensive beef -- whatever's on sale -- cut into two inch-long strips, 1/2 inch wide and 1/4 inch deep strips
garlic powder
1 large onion chopped
1 pound sliced mushrooms
3/4 cup dry white wine
1 teaspoon sweet Hungarian paprika
1 cup sour cream
hot, buttered egg noodles

Heat oil in a skillet. Add beef strips, sprinkled with garlic powder to taste, and cook until browned. Add onions and mushrooms and cook until starting to become soft. Add wine and cook until sauce thickens and is reduced. Sprinkle with paprika. Turn off heat and add sour cream. Serve over hot, buttered noodles.

The second recipe is the result of having passed by gorgeous heads of escarole each Sunday at the Ojai farmers market and coveting them. I saw some recipes for escarole soup and decided to make my own version. This is easy, delicious and super healthy.

Escarole and bean soup

1 head escarole, rinsed and coarsely chopped
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 quart chicken broth
1 can white beans, rinsed
crushed red pepper flakes, to taste
Parmesan cheese
Rustic Italian bread, sliced, sprayed with olive oil spray on both sides and sprinkled with garlic powder and broiled until browned on each side.

Heat olive oil in Dutch oven. Add escarole and stir over medium heat until the escarole starts to wilt. Add about a third of the broth and cook until the escarole softens completely. Add the rest of the broth and the beans and simmer over low heat for about 20 minutes. Serve over pieces of toasted rustic bread. Top with cheese and red flakes to taste.

Finally, I'm a sucker for braised red cabbage. It's so easy and healthy and it can be made up a million ways. This version pits the sour/sweet brightness of cranberry against the pungent cabbage and the sweet, earthy apples. With such strong elements, I didn't want to muddy the taste with anything else. You could remove the pork chops when they're browned and cooked through and make the cranberry glaze separately, but I had more fun making the pork chops bright red and liked how the flavor permeated them.

Red cabbage with cranberry glazed pork chops
For the cabbage

1 small head red cabbage cored and chopped into one-inch pieces
2 large apples, cored and chopped into half-inch pieces -- I used pink lady apples from the local farmers market
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 cup cranberry juice
salt and pepper to taste

For the pork chops
2 large pork loin chops
3 tablespoons canola oil
4 springs of fresh thyme
salt and pepper
1/2 cup cranberry juice
3 tablespoons butter

Heat olive oil in a large, deep skillet. Add cabbage and apples and stir until beginning to wilt. Add cranberry juice and season with salt and pepper. Reduce heat and cover and simmer for 30 minutes. Heat canola oil in a second skillet and add pork chops. Add thyme leaves and salt and pepper. Brown on both sides. Add cranberry juice and cook until reduced and thickened. Add butter when sauce is thickened and remove chops. Serve with cabbage.

Comfort food on a rainy day

 

We've finally received some rain after a two-year drought here in Southern California. When I first moved here, I was amazed at the panic that occurred during rainstorms that were -- in my Midwestern experience -- fairly light. But it quickly became evident that the reason for the panic was that the entire infrastructure is unprepared for any precipitation.

There's almost an arrogance here in Southern California, especially for those of us living by the ocean, that we really don't have to worry as much about such niceties as shelter from the weather. After all, the weather here is perfect more often than not. As another transplant put it, "If my car breaks down here, I'm not in danger of dying." So the roads are pretty much slapped down without regard to such basic engineering nicities as grading, which means that any time it sprinkles, water pools up everywhere, even on the highways where the speed limits are higher and the danger of hydroplaning is greater than in any state I've lived.

Rudimentary sewer systems -- everything drains to the ocean -- don't help the situation and the soil that makes up the hills here is sandy and unstable, kind of like packed sandcastles, so it's really easy to make it slide.

But after more than 10 years, I'm used to it. We actually live in one of the safest areas around, considering all the natural hazards. So when the rain comes, we just settle in and listen to the drops falling on the skylight. I also like to cook up warming meals that fill the house with the wonderful scent of cooking food.

This is Rob's very favorite recipe, so I make it for him on special occasions. But, just to keep things fresh, I trot it out randomly from time to time. It's super easy, but the flavor is amazing. This is one of the recipes that I make regularly that uses Reynolds oven bags. After years of trying different methods, -- slow cookers, braising in Dutch ovens -- I've found the bags offer the easiest way to make some really wonderful meals. All the food goes inside, so there's very little mess, the food cooks evenly and the flavors develop very well in the steam-filled environment. It's close to a traditional Swiss steak, but with a few differences. I know some people would look down their noses at the onion soup mix addition, but it really adds a depth of flavor. The low cooking temperature ensures a tender dish.

The thing that really sets this recipe apart is the mashed potatoes. I've worked for years perfecting my mashed potato recipe, and it's pretty close to perfect. The important thing is to take the extra time to make sure all of the ingredients are the same temperature.

Swiss steak and mashed potatoes

1 2- to 3- pound chuck roast or round steak, whatever is cheapest, slightly salted and pounded with a meat tenderizer
1 tablespoon flour
1 envelope Lipton onion soup mix
1/2 cup red wine
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 large can Progresso crushed tomatoes in puree
3 bay leaves

Heat oven to 295 degrees. Place flour and soup mix in a large Reynolds oven bag and shake to coat the interior. Place meat in the bag and shake to cover the meat. Add wine, Worcestershire sauce, crushed tomatoes and bay leaves in the bag and massage to mix. Tie the bag and poke the top with a couple of holes to steam. Place the bag on a roasting pan and cook for at least 3 hours or until meat falls apart.

Mashed potatoes

3 pounds peeled Idaho or russet potatoes, cut into large (2-inch) pieces
1 stick butter, softened (Put cold butter in microwave for 15 seconds to soften)
1 1/2 cup milk warmed in microwave for 1 minute
salt
pepper

Cook potatoes in salted boiling water until they are tender when speared with a fork. Drain thoroughly. Return to dry pot and mash together with butter with potato ricer. Add milk until soft and fluffy. Season to taste. Serve hot.
Accident update

For those of you following my recovery from my 2007 accident, I am scheduled for surgery Sept. 21. We're starting with a arthroscopic procedure, and hoping that does the trick, although the knee looks to be in pretty bad shape at this point. But my foot was in a lot better shape than the doctor initially thought, so with any luck ...

Pigs feet and sauerkraut

 

My dad was always a culinary adventurer. He just loved trying anything new and unknown. I've always been fearless when it comes to food, so the two of us would often share some of his more creative offerings. I have to admit, I drew the line at brains and eggs. I found brains to be so repulsive and they set off my gag reflex. I did, however, eat the fried tripe and pigs feet and sauerkraut. I didn't like the pigs feet and sauerkraut at first because it seemed fatty, but dad explained that it was cartilage melting down as it cooks to become gelatinous.

Somehow I got it in my head that pigs feet and sauerkraut was my signature New Years' dish. It's kind of a take on pork ribs and sauerkraut, but the pigs feet really add so much more to the taste. And because I always tended to work on New Years' Eve and New Years, I always brought a bunch of pigs feet and sauerkraut to work with me for lunch, much to the delight (so not) of my fellow workers.

One Year I got so enthusiastic eating it, I got intestinal cramps and had to go home, but every other year I look forward to my annual treat and eat it without any issues. I started tweaking the recipe a little in recent years, before it was just pigs feet and sauerkraut, but now, with the addition of apples, it's so much more.

For years and years I had a tradition of setting out in search of pigs feet. When I lived in Ohio, this was often a long and frustrating search, which took me to the far reaches of the county until I could find them. In California, where pigs feet are more common in grocery stores, they always seemed to disappear right around New Years.

After living here a few years, I realized why; they are used to make menudo, a Mexican stew made with tripe, hominy and often hooves that is known as a folk cure for hangovers. New Years is prime hangover time, so pigs feet are scarce. Then I realized that the Mexican markets would probably have them.

I've fairly recently discovered that our local Mexican markets are a treasure trove of hard-to-find and exotic (to me) items. My hunch was right and now each year finds me in my local market explaining a couple of times that I really DO want pigs feet, of which there are usually piles and, as an added bonus, Mexican markets also have butchers -- usually bunches of them -- right there ready to trim your meat. And despite the fact that communication can sometimes be a bit tricky ("Why did you get that? "I'm not entirely sure.") shopping there is always a treat. Most Anglos tend to look down their noses at the Mexican markets, which is their loss.

Sadly, I can never get anyone to share in my porcine bounty, so despite the fact that my house always smells like cooking sauerkraut at the New Year, my kids have never tried my signature New Years' meal. Oh well, that means more for me, along with glistening hair and shiny nails, although I'm sharing the recipe because if my family has anything to say about it, it will die with me -- such babies.

Pigs feet and sauerkraut

2 large jars or packages of prepared sauerkraut
4 large pigs feet -- have the butcher quarter them for best cooking.
3 large granny smith apples, chopped into large (1/2 inch) squared
1 tablespoon caraway seed
Place everything in a crock pot and let 'er rip. I have found that it does need to be set on either 6 hours or 10 hours to cook properly. The pigs feet are done when they fall away from the bone. Watch out for pigs knuckles.

Wassail

 

This recipe is a repeat from an earlier post. Courtney called and said Dave wanted my wassail recipe, so here goes:

When I first quit drinking, I kind of missed having something festive to sip during the holidays. Eggnog just doesn't cut it without the "nog," as we say, although a good nonalcoholic cup with plenty of nutmeg can be tasty. I started researching wassail recipes because it seemed like such a neat idea. After reviewing a ton of recipes here's my take on wassail. I'm going to give proportions, rather than strict measurements because that's how I make mine. I've also started to use lemonade because I don't add sugar. I will, however add honey if I think the wassail needs to be sweetened. This makes it taste wonderful, while soothing the throat so you can sing more choruses of "Grandma got run over by a reindeer," although in honor of me, it should be "Grandma got run over by a Dodge truck."

Mom's Wassail
Twice as much apple juice or cider as orange juice and twice as much orange juice as lemonade.
2 allspice berries, three cinnamon sticks, 3 whole cloves, 1 cardamon pod, about 5 slices of fresh ginger or use about a tablespoon of crystallized ginger. Wrap all of this in cheese cloth tied off.
About a quarter cup of honey or to taste
Put the liquid in a crock pot. Add the cheesecloth-wrapped spices and honey. As the wassail cooks, it will need to be diluted. Add water to taste -- in fact you can add water right away if it seems too strong.

What it's like to get hit by a truck

I've been visiting doctors pretty consistently since my accident. I've never been a big fan of visiting the doctor's office because either there's nothing wrong with me and my symptoms, therefore, can't be treated. Or it's something chronic, like asthma or irritable bowel syndrome, which are just things you have to live with. Basically I'm a very healthy person. I have a lot of stupid chronic things wrong with me -- mitral valve prolapse, super bad hay fever, acid reflux, along with the aforementioned asthma, which really isn't very bad, and the IBS. But these things are under control and I can go ages between doctor's visits.

These days, however, I'm at some kind of appointment at least once a week, and it's getting on my nerves. This past week, I had to have the hemotoma on my hip drained. It didn't hurt at all, mainly because my knee was throbbing so much, I really didn't pay much attention to the hip draining. As I went in to get the procedure the nurses started asking about the accident. I'm starting to know all the nurses at my various doctor's offices and the subject of the details of the accident come up. People are curious. What is it like, besides the obvious pain, to get hit by a truck?

I was riding along the Ventura River bike path, which winds around the Oil Country building as it approaches the Stanley Street crossing. You ride parallel to the traffic as it comes off Hwy 33, so people can see you approaching the crossing. A blue car had spotted me as it was going east and started slowing as it approached the crossing. I always appreciate people who watch for bicyclists because so many people just ignore them and cut you off or fly through a marked flashing intersection just because they're jerks. I thought it was really cool that the car was slowing because it was later in the day -- 4:45 -- which is approaching rush hour when traffic gets crazy.

I slowed way down, although I was never going very fast. My bike is a big heavy cruiser, which is the only kind of bike I ride. It's really hard to get it going and most people smaller than I am won't ride it because it requires a lot of strength to make it move. This is why I like it because it's a really good workout for me since I can't do things that require too much panting because of the asthma. I also like to sit up when I ride. The racing bike position with my butt higher than my head makes me feel as though I'm falling. So I cut quite the non-cool figure, what with my plastic basket with plastic flowers, my gymc shorts and my t-shirts.

I saw that a big, white van had stopped in the westbound lane and that there was no traffic in the far left lane, and my duded in the dark blue car had stopped and was waving me through. Everyone was stopped for me and there was a lot of traffic, so I started through the intersection, passing through the pylons that activate the flashing lights. I was going pretty slowly and had passed the blue car and was in front of the white van, which I noticed had handicapped license places. I had been craning my neck to look around the white van and hadn't seen anyone approaching it. Rob and I have always referred to the old crossing sucker accident where one guy will allow traffic to pass in front of him only to have cars going the other way smash into the poor crosser. We always watch out for the empty lane and I had seen nothing.

But just as I was getting past the van I caught a glimpse of a red truck barrelling toward me in the far left lane. I was almost past the van, but I instinctively locked up my pedal brakes, hoping to stop in time, but bikes don't stop on a dime. I heard the truck's brakes lock up as I was rounding the van, but I knew then that a collision was unavoidable. There was the "Oh shit." moment. Then the quick, "Maybe this won't be so bad.' Followed by a retreat deep into my mind.

One of the things I learned as a child was that if something really horrible was going to happen -- something really painful that you couldn't avoid -- that you could go deep inside your mind and you can't get hurt. I've learned that this is a learned response to extreme abuse, but it can come in handy in an emergency. I've always held to the belief that if death is imminent, it is important to make the mind as still and as calm as possible as you face your end. I'm not sure why it's important, but it's important to me that my last moment of life isn't one of fear and panic.

One time when I broke my wrist and I was waiting in the emergency room an elderly woman was being treated near me. I could only hear her as she started to cry, "I'm so afraid. I don't want to die. I'm so afraid." The nurse reassured her, "It's OK. Don't be afraid. You're going to be alright. It's OK." But she wasn't. There was just the sound of people rustling as they worked and the machines beeping -- not all the talking and clamor you see in the TV shows. No one said much. Then finally, the nurse said, "Well, should I put her things together to give to the family?" And I realized that the woman had died and that she had been terrified and begging not to go.

I decided that I didn't want to be terrified. I wanted to face the other side, whatever it may be, with quiet dignity. I'm not sure why it would even matter, after all dead is dead. But to me it's important.

So I made my mind go still and my body went completely limp. I felt the impact of the truck hitting my right hip. It was SMASH. As hard as I've ever been hit. I was flying through the air. I could hear people's voices going, "Oooooooooo," all around me. I kept my eyes shut. My mind was miles away. I was on the ground. I opened my eyes. I was alive. I was hurt, but I knew immediately nothing was broken -- well maybe my hip, which really hurt. But I did a mental inventory and it all checked out OK.

A guy came up to me. He wasn't very tall. He was Hispanic and wearing a brown shirt, I think. He asked if I was OK and I said, "No." He said what can I do?" I said, "Call 911." Other people came up and asked if I was OK. Someone noticed there was blood on my head and asked if I was wearing a helmet. I said yes and someone held it up and it had a big chunk out of it and they said, "You were really lucky to be wearing this. Some guy farther away from me over on my right said, "You should get your head out of the road." I realized it was hanging upside down off the curb and my body was on the shoulder. So I scootched up. When I scootched, I had the opportunity to move and realized everything was working.

I told the people around me to just let me lie there until the paramedics came. I'd just taken a Red Cross course two months before and was all up-to-date on what to do. So there I was. I realized there were ants crawling all over me and they were biting me. I almost laughed. It was just one of those things. "I'm having a really bad day," I thought and smiled. I mean as bad days go, this one was really proving itself to be the Chuck Norris of bad days. I tired to get my cell phone out so I could call Rob, but I realized that the screen had been smashed -- it was in the pocket that was hit -- and without the screen, I had no idea who I was calling.

A paramedic approached me and asked if I was OK. I said my hip hurt and he said to just sit still. He said he was transporting a patient to Vista Del Mar, the local psychiatric facility, and according to California state law any paramedic on a non-emergency call must stop and give aid if he is first on the scene of an accident. So he pretty much stood there and told me not to move. The firefighters arrived next. The paramedic dude explained himself, so the firefighters took over. One of them said, "Did you know there are ants crawling all over you?" I said, "Yeah could you brush them off please. I feel like I'm in Hell right now." He smiled and brushed them off.

The other paramedics arrived and I got the same old questions, "How old? How tall? how much do you weigh? Did you lose consciousness? Does your back hurt? Can you move your legs?" They tried to sit me up, but as soon as they did I got really dizzy. I told them to put me down, that I was getting shocky. I could just tell. I was losing sensation in my extremities and starting to get really cold and shivery, all signs of shock. So they put me down and lifted me onto the board and strapped me in. They lifted me into the ambulance and I was strapped in there. They put in an IV because of the shocky-ness and gave me a blanket. It was kind of wobbly as we drove; I kept having to brace myself. The paramedic gave me her cell phone so I could call Rob.

She actually placed the call and asked for him. I told him I'd been hit by a truck and was heading to Community Memorial. He said he'd meet me there.

The rest of the night was waiting. Waiting for the doctors. Waiting for the x-ray people. Nothing was broken, so they let me off the board. I'd been on it for almost four of the most excruciating hours of my life. I've talked to other people who've been on the board and they say the same thing. It may well save lives, but damned, it's painfully uncomfortable.

The care was sporadic. A nurse would come in and maybe wipe off a small part of my road rash, then she'd take off. Rob finally got the wipes down and did it himself, thank God he did because I never got any infection. The doctor finally gave me a pain shot and they sent me home. It was hard to walk. I was pretty beat up. We stopped by the pharmacy and got Vicodin and some antibiotic ointment and headed home.

The next few weeks were a haze of pain, sleeping, limping. I saw my doctor and with nothing obviously wrong, we decided to wait and see what ended up shaking out. I mean at first everything hurt so much, it was hard to tell what was wrong where. He wasn't happy with my swollen ankle, so he gave me a referral for that and a referral for physical therapy. I also stopped by a lawyer's office.

As I've documented before, the swollen ankle turned out to be a ruptured tendon, which required surgery Sept. 14. My foot has healed as well as can be expected, maybe even better. But it's still swollen and tender and the doctor said I'll have to expect that. Tendon repair is very painful and takes a long time. I also have a titanium peg in my ankle to straighten it up.

My left knee, which was hurt when the bike slammed into it, has broken bone fragments, a torn meniscus and all kinds of other problems. The doctor took one look at the films and said knee replacement, but now he's thinking arthroscopic to start, which is fine with me because so far things have turned out better when they've gotten into them. My foot doctor was pretty grim about my foot, but said the tendon was actually cleanly torn and easy to repair. The doctor who drained the hemotoma on my hip -- I've had huge lump on my hip for over six months -- was pleased to see that the fluid hadn't jelled, requiring more extensive surgery -- although now I have a lovely fat lump on my hip -- sexy. I see the knee doctor after Christmas and we'll set surgery then.

This whole thing has proven so much harder than I would ever have imagined. The part that's the worst is the long, drawn-out process it all is. I'm just so over it all and ready to move on with my life.

So bascially to sum it up, if you want my opinion about getting hit by a truck, I'd have to say ... it's best to avoid it.

Palmiers and Christmas baking

 

I decided this year, since I wasn't going to be as busy as I am when Courtney and family are here, that I wanted to make something a little more daring. I've always loved palmiers, which are basically just puffed pastry cooked with sugar and cinnamon as little cookies. They're a lot like elephant ears.

All of the cooking shows make a big deal out of puff pastry, so I've never ventured to make it because it looks so complicated. It also takes about 5 hours to prepare them what with the repeated rolling and chilling. But I found that using these instruction was really easy, especially the incorporating part. The dough rolled out really easily. I obviously didn't quite get how to fold the cookies, but I think I can do better next time.

Oh and I did make one discovery. The recipe says to the chill the logs on a cookie sheet, which I did. But then I needed to put one in the oven and the other stayed in the refrigerator until I was ready for it. So I just got another cookie sheet lined with a Silpat mat (which I highly recommend) to bake the first batch. But since it wasn't as cold when I put it in the oven that batch of cookies didn't puff as much. So always bake the cookies on a cold cookie sheet. I was afraid they'd burn ,but they showed no signs of scorching.

And the cookies. They melt in your mouth and are as light as air.

Cinnamon palmiers (Courtesy of Gourmet Magazine)
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, frozen
5 to 6 tablespoons ice water
1 cup sugar
2 teaspoons cinnamon

Stir together flour and salt in a chilled large metal bowl. Coarsely grate frozen butter into flour, gently tossing to coat butter.

Drizzle 5 tablespoons ice water evenly over flour mixture and gently stir with a fork until incorporated. Test mixture by gently squeezing a small handful: When dough has the proper texture, it will hold together without crumbling apart. If necessary, add another tablespoon water, stirring until just incorporated, and test again. (Do not overwork dough or add too much water, or pastry will be tough; dough will be lumpy and streaky.)

Form dough into a 5-inch square, then chill, wrapped in plastic wrap, until firm, at least 30 minutes.

Roll out dough on a floured surface with a floured rolling pin into a 15- by 8-inch rectangle (with a short side nearest you). Brush off excess flour and fold dough into thirds like a letter. Rewrap dough and chill until firm, at least 30 minutes.

Arrange dough with a short side nearest you on a floured surface and repeat rolling out, folding, and chilling 2 more times. Brush off any excess flour, then halve dough crosswise with a sharp knife and chill, wrapped separately in plastic wrap, at least 1 hour.

Stir together sugar and cinnamon, then generously sprinkle a clean work surface with some of cinnamon sugar and place 1 piece of chilled dough on top. Quickly roll out into a 16- by 12-inch rectangle (1/8 to 1/16 inch thick; if dough becomes too soft, chill on a baking sheet until firm). Trim edges with a sharp knife. Sprinkle top of dough evenly with some cinnamon sugar to cover completely, brushing off any excess. Fold 2 opposite long sides of pastry so they meet in center. Fold in same sides of pastry in same manner, then fold one half over the other (like a book) and press gently with a rolling pin to flatten slightly, forming a long rectangular log. Sprinkle with additional cinnamon sugar if dough is sticky.

Chill on a baking sheet, uncovered, until firm, at least 30 minutes and up to 2 hours. Meanwhile, repeat with remaining piece of dough and cinnamon sugar.

Preheat oven to 425°F with rack in middle. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.

Cut 1 log of dough crosswise into 1/4-inch-thick slices with a sharp knife and arrange slices, cut sides down, 1 1/2 inches apart on baking sheet. Bake until puffed and golden around edges, 7 to 9 minutes. Remove from oven and turn palmiers over with a spatula. (If palmiers begin to unroll, gently press to reshape when cooled slightly.) Continue baking until golden all over and sugar is caramelized, 3 to 5 minutes more. Transfer as done (palmiers may not bake evenly) to a rack and cool. Make more cookies on cooled baking sheet lined with fresh parchment.

Cook's notes:
• Dough, without cinnamon sugar, can be chilled, wrapped well, up to 2 days or frozen up to 1 month (thaw in refrigerator).
• Cookies keep in an airtight container at room temperature 4 days. If desired, palmiers can be recrisped in a 300°F oven until heated through, about 5 minutes.

Christmas bells are ringing

 

Rob has been bugging me for a while to make him "cookies that taste like brownies." I've made all sorts of chocolate cookies, but none has been "brownie-like" enough. So this year, I decided to do an online search for brownie cookies and was getting all set to make them when the Rob-ster came home with a package of brownie mix.

"They were on sale," he said.

I was pretty much going to ignore him and the mix and embark on a brownie cookie, after all I'm no Sandra Lee (the Semi-homemade lady) when I found a brownie mix cookie recipe. I decided to take that as a base and make cookies that tasted like brownies, only better. I decided to add some good Dutch-process cocoa because the brownie mix cocoa isn't nearly as good and I love the flavor of good cocoa. I also added some vanilla and a touch of almond flavoring, which really adds a special dimension to the cookies.

Then, in a moment of inspiration, I got the idea of rolling the cookies in confectioner's sugar before baking them. They really came out quite good. They're amazingly easy to make and I was able to take a picture before Rob finished devouring them.

Brownie cookies

1 pkg. fudge brownie mix
1/4 cup Dutch process cocoa (Such as Droste)
1/4 cup flour
1/4 cup melted butter
3 tablespoons water
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon almond extract
1 cup chopped walnuts
1 cup chocolate chips (optional) (you could also add peppermint pieces or butterscotch pieces)
Confectioner's sugar

Combine all ingredients, mixing by hand. Chill in refrigerator for at least a half an hour. Using two tablespoons, spoon out a one-inch ball of batter (it doesn't have to be a perfect ball, just a blob of batter will do) and roll it in confectioners sugar until the ball is coated (the cookie will become more ball-like as you roll it quickly using just one or two fingers. Place on cookie sheet lined with a Silpat mat or parchment paper. Bake until just set at 350 degrees, about 12 to 14 minutes. Cool for a minute and place on cookie racks to finish cooling.

30 minutes? Who has the time?

 

I've developed an odd fascination with Rachael Ray lately. I'm not sure if it's the oppressive perkiness -- no adult woman should ever giggle that much -- or if it's envy. How can someone with such limited culinary skills be such a huge success? I've heard her describe her path to the top and it sounds as though she was one of the lucky ones. One of those people who just happen to be in the right place at the right time, unlike me who tends to be in the right place just after the right time has passed.

One of the things I find fascinating about Ms. Ray is the whole 30 minutes deal. From what I've heard from other people and from what I've read, no one can complete her recipes in 30 minutes. I've watched her closely and it's pretty obvious she cheats. She puts food in the oven to "cook" but often is seen touching the rack with her bare hands, which means it's getting cooked off-camera separately. During her breaks she tends to accomplish about 20 minutes worth of work, including frying up whole batches of pepper-sauce-flavored pancake batter-coated chicken(ewwwwww), when she only had three coated and half fried before the break, for example.

That's all well and good I suppose, although it would be better if she were a little more honest and would show in real time how long it really takes for the water to boil or meats to cook. I find her recipes to be fairly competent when she sticks with Italian food -- she's spent a lot of time studying it and was even married in Italy. But others, such as the afore-mentioned "Buffalo chicken chunks," the pancake batter fried scallion cakes she served, the revolting chicken pot pie without the crust (Um that would be chicken stew ...) seem to come from someone who really doesn't stop and taste her creations with an objective eye. Often she sacrifices taste for haste and the results aren't pretty or palatable.

I've been working on some recipes that really, truly don't take a lot of time. And these are pretty nutritious and inexpensive to make. During the holiday season when you're trying to stretch the monetary and time budget as far as you can, fast, good and cheap is especially welcome.

The first recipe is for spaghetti. One of the things I've learned to do, and everyone else should be doing, is reading the labels of the prepared food I buy. Spaghetti sauce in a jar is one of those things that seems like a good idea, but when you look at the sugar, sodium and preservatives that are listed in these sauces, making your own -- which is super easy -- is an attractive option. And when you taste this dish, you'll be glad you skipped the jar because this tastes fresh and delicious. This recipe is a repeat from an earlier post, but it's worth it.

Spaghetti with tomato/sausage sauce

3 tablespoons olive oil
1 pound sweet Italian sausage
1 large green bell pepper, chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
2 40-ounce cans Progresso crushed tomatoes with puree (Do not get the flavored varieties, just plain old tomatoes are what you want)
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon salt
3 bay leaves
1 cup red wine (a Merlot or Cabernet is good here)
1 1/2 pounds cooked spaghetti
1 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Heat oil in medium-hot Dutch oven and add sausages with the casings removed. Break up with a wooden spoon or spatula. Add peppers and onions when the sausage is starting to brown. You may have to drain the grease if your sausages are fatty. If so, do it now. Cook until veggies are translucent. Add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds to a minute. Do not brown the garlic. Add tomatoes. Stir thoroughly. Add oregano, salt and bay leaves and stir. Add wine and stir. Bring sauce to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for at least an hour. Cook about a pound and a half of spaghetti (or whatever pasta you desire), until it is al dente in a larger stockpot. Drain. Put the pasta back in the stock pot and add the sauce and cheese and stir it all up over low heat. Serve with garlic bread and salad.

I also use Dreamfields pasta, which only has 5 digestable carbs per serving. It tastes just like regular pasta, but the wheat carbs are rendered ineffective by some kind of process. It really seems to work and it's really good.

I make my garlic bread by buying one of the large French bread loaves available fresh at most supermarkets. I slice the loaves into 1 inch slices, almost through the bread. I butter each slice on both sides and sprinkle with a generous amount of garlic powder (not salt). I wrap the bread in aluminum foil and put in in a 350 oven for 30 minutes.

The follwing recipe is super, duper simple and is about as healthy as food gets. Stick with Trader Joe's for the stir fry veggies and the frozen, precooked rice for almost instant food.

Pork Stir Fry

3 tablespoons canola oil
1 to 1 1/2 pounds pork -- buy whatever cut is least expensive, such as the "country ribs," and cut it into 1/2 inch strips.
garlic powder
Trader Joe's fresh stir fry vegetables (there are usually two varieties available)
Stir fry sauce (Check out the Asian food section of your grocery and get the one you like best. Keep an eye out for labels and try to stick with the lowest sugar added)
Soy sauce
Frozen Jasmine rice, cooked in the microwave according to directions

Heat the oil in a wok. Add the pork and season with the garlic powder. Cook over high heat until the meat starts to brown, about five minutes. Add vegetables and add about 3 tablespoons of the stir fry sauce and about 2 to 3 tablespoons of the soy sauce. Stir fry for just a couple of minutes or until all the veggies are just barely cooked. Serve with the rice.

You can make this recipe with beef or chicken. If you don't want to go to Trader Joe's, get some bok choy or Napa cabbage and cut into 1/3 inch strips. Add sliced oyster or any other variety of mushrooms. You can add mung bean sprouts if you like or some edamame. Chop some broccoli or some carrots. Whatever you like.

The following recipe is another almost-instant. It almost beats the drive-thru window. Heck, I made it during the COMMERCIAL of Rachel Ray's 30-minute cooking show. And it's really quite yummy. Once again, this is a really healthy meal. I always make this the day after we have roast chicken because we have leftovers, but you could use a rotisserie chicken.

Chicken and vegetable tacos

3 tablespoons olive oil
2 cups cooked chicken shredded
3 tablespoons chili powder
1 tablespoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder (not garlic salt)
1 teaspoon salt
Cayenne pepper to taste
1 small bag of frozen Southwestern style vegetables. These tend to have black beans peppers and corn
1/4 cup water
Taco shells
shredded cheddar cheese
shredded lettuce (you can chop the lettuce in a salad mix, if you like)
salsa
hot sauce, if desired
sour cream

If you're feeling really lazy, you can skip using the spices and use a taco seasoning mix, but I like the control over the salt and other ingredients, including preservatives. Heat the oil in a skillet and add the chicken and the seasonings and stir. Add the frozen vegetables and water. Heat until vegetables are cooked through, just a minute or two. Heat taco shells in a microwave for about 20 seconds. The box says to heat them longer, but they burn quickly. Have everyone assemble the tacos putting the chicken mixture in first and then adding toppings.

Thankless Thanksgiving

 

This hasn't been the best year, so I wasn't surprised when I checked with my various regular Thanksgiving dinner guests to find out that everyone had other plans. My overall luck of late hasn't been terribly good, and I've found that expecting the worst tends to dull the edge of constant disappointment -- a little bit. I've also gotten to the point where I'm just sick of the whole "bad turn of the Karma wheel," as I like to call it. It's time to spit in the face of the fates and decide I'm not going to be miserable no matter how crappy things are.

So I went ahead and ordered a nice, organic, free-range turkey from the local market, Westridge Market in Ojai. I got the smallest one they had. I made sure we had all the sides, although I cut back and only included the ones Rob and I really like. We also cleaned the dining room and I put out our festive Thanksgiving settings. I did cut back a bit. I only baked one pie, not the usual three. I only made one kind of cranberry sauce, instead of the normal two.

Dena told us she would be able to come over later -- she got off work around 7 p.m. in L.A., so she'd be here around 8. She had stopped by earlier and she told me she wanted some collard greens. I love collards green made with salt pork, but I know enough about them to convert them to a vegetarian version. Dena also loves sweet potatoes, so I got some. But because she was coming so late, we decided to eat earlier. In fact, Rob would prefer to eat around 1 p.m., while I insist on eating around 5 p.m. I'm the cook, so guess who wins that argument.

Rob and I decided we were going to make the meal a Big Deal even if it was just the two of us. Rob scrubbed the dining room. I managed to make all the sides, despite the fact that my bad foot is still quite tender. We had our usual turkey and stuffing (cornbread, almonds, celery, dried cranberries and currants). Rob is only interested in corn, turkey and mashed potatoes. He really doesn't like gravy, but it isn't Thanksgiving without a good giblet gravy for me, so that's what I made. So in addition to the mashed potatoes, we had creamed onions, turnips roasted in the turkey fat and sprinkled with rosemary, green beans with toasted almonds and pureed summer squash. Oh yeah, I also had some Rhodes rolls.

Dinner was ready at 5 on the Dot, which makes Rob happy -- well as happy as he can be not having his crack of Noon meal. We sat down to our full plates. Up til then, we really had been working on cheering each other up. But when we got to the actual meal the loneliness was crushing and we both lost our enthusiasm. I guess while other people count dollars in their bank account or karats in their rings, we count friends and family as our treasure and we were feeling quite depleted this year. So we finished our food in silence and I went to lie down, while Rob cleaned the kitchen.

Soon the phone rang and it was Gen of the comedy duo Gen and Sean, or Seanifer. They wanted to let us know that they missed us -- they go up to Gen's family Thanksgiving in Paso Robles -- about a three-hour drive each way, every few years and eat out at a restaurant. Then Tressa came over followed by Dena. I got up and made Dena her collard greens, which came out great. I also made the sweet potatoes with pecans, maple syrup and orange and served her the creamed onions she'd been hankering, along with green beans, squash and rolls. A friend of Tressa's came over and we sat around and chatted until almost 11 p.m.

No one had had any room for the pumpkin right after dinner so Rob and I had some after they left. Note to self: The King Arthur flour white whole wheat flour does NOT make a good pie crust, stick with unbleached. We both were in much better spirits. That's all we need, we decided, just someone to come by and hang out with us for a while and we're both happy. It's not that we don't enjoy each other's company, but we've been together so long, we've replayed conversations to death. Rob isn't one for idle chatter, and actually I find I'm not a big fan either, which is odd because I used to be such a chatterbox. It's nice to sit around with other people and just connect over a good meal.

Overall, it turned out to be a very lovely Thanksgiving and although it's been a bit rough here lately, we still have a great deal to be thankful for.

Vegetarian (vegan) collard greens

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 pounds collard greens. stems removed and chopped into 1/2 inch pieces -- roll the leaves and cut across in strips, then chop the strips.
3 shallots, chopped
1 quart vegetable broth
Tabasco sauce to taste (you can also use dried red pepper flakes)
salt and pepper

Heat the oil in a Dutch oven and add the shallots, cook until translucent and add greens. Saute in the oil until the greens wilt. Add broth and salt and pepper and cover and cook for about 20 minutes. Add Tobasco to taste and cook and additional 10 minutes or until somewhat soft, but with some crunch.

 

Turkey talk

One thing I started thinking about was the evolution of the Thanksgiving turkey preparation over the years.

When I was a kid, we always bought frozen turkeys. That was all they seemed to have. It was always a big deal to defrost them on time, but in those days it was no big deal to leave them out until they were thawed. They were always filled with stuffing, which was made with eggs added and the stuffing stayed in the bird for days, or until the carcass disappeared. I think the reason so few got food poisoning from the stuffing then was because it got so nasty and gross so fast, no one would venture to try it.

Then in my 20s, we discovered that fresh birds were far superior. They were a specialty at first, and I always had to track them down. By this time, people had figured out that defrosting meat on the counter wasn't such a great idea and the turkey had to be defrosted in the refrigerator, which took days. But since I'd moved on to fresh turkey, it was OK by me.

A few years later, though I heard tell of a new-fangled kind of "best turkey," the free-range bird, which had lived a happy turkey life wandering around eating feed, not a horrible, crammed in pens and de-beaked existence. Plus they were supposed to taste better. Again, they were rare at first, but gained in popularity and soon I was fighting to get mine every year.

Now we're up to "heirloom' turkeys, which are supposed to hearken back to the breeds of yore when a turkey "tasted like a turkey (??????). Although I'm convinced it's all about making us spend more money on the turkey because I really haven't noticed a great deal of difference in the free range or heirloom brands.

We also obsess about food safety. Most experts say not to even stuff a turkey, because of food safety concerns. If you do, get the stuffing out right away. Also make sure to refrigerate the bird quickly to stave off illness. No leaving it on the counter for 5 hours, which my parents used to do.

Turkey preparation has also evolved. My parents stuck the thing in a roasting pan and let 'er rip. Then we had to use racks. The latest thing is brining. Every time you turn on the Food Channel, someone is talking about the joys of soaking the bird and all the magazines have brining tips.

I've found brining to be a logistical nightmare, especially if it's a really big bird. I bought a "brining sack" at Sur La Table a few years back and tried to put the turkey and the water in it and place it in a pan, but it leaked all over the place and was useless. This year I brined the bird by placing one cup of kosher salt (BTW did you know kosher means the meat is already brined? I didn't, but it's true), one lemon and herbs de provence along with enough water to fill up the roasting pan with the turkey in it. I flipped the bird every four hours for about 16 hours and then dried it off and let it sit on a rack that I had propped off the ground with aluminum foil, overnight, because the Chinese always air dry their poultry to get crispy skins. (You heard it here first, air drying is going to be the Next Rage).

The turkey came out great, moist and tasty. I need to brine because I tend to overcook the turkey a bit because I really really don't like underdone poultry.

Isn't it odd that as time goes on food becomes less and less safe? You'd think it should be the other way around.

Chickpeas and Chowhound

 

For those of you who don't know Chowhound is a site "For those who like to eat." There are really cool forums where you can sound off about a variety of topics. I'd heard, however, that their moderating is highly subjective and arbitrary. I've posed a couple of questions -- innocuous things like
what are your guilty pleasures -- and so forth.

But I apparently have run afoul of the whole Jane Goldman operation when I posed the following question:

What would be your ideal TV cooking show if you could create one?
Personally, I'd like a little less "personality" and gimmicks -- BAM, EVOO, y'all, etc. -- and a return to the Food Channel shows of yore. I really liked Ready, Set, Cook with audience members buying ingredients for chefs to transform in 20 minutes. I'd also really like to see more shows where true chefs show how to work in a kitchen -- I totally love Ming Tsai and Mario because they know so much about food. The current crop of TV hosts leaves me cold. What do you think?

I thought this would be thought-provoking and would shy away from the Chowhound aversion to "bashing" TV hosts, putting a positive spin on what people want from television. I got this in my mail box after several people had provided some really interesting answers to my query:

Hi Fuser, you've been sent the following by a Chowhound moderator:

Dear Fuser:

Chowhound's goal is to help people sort through their myriad chow options to find the most delicious food available to them - or in the case of the Food Media and News board, current TV shows, books, magazines etc. Speculation about what one's ideal TV cooking show would doesn't help anyone watch better now, so to speak, so they're off topic for our boards - just as discussions about what restaurants an area needs are.

The Chowhound Team
Chowhound.com

I don't know if others follow such things, but I do and Rob and I saw a recent Chowhound segment that featured the legendary Jane Goldman -- the editor of Chowhound -- ostensibly "reviewing" a local (to the Bay Area) restaurant. But as the piece progressed, it became apparent the review was, in fact, a fawning advertisement for the place.

It's too bad Ms. Goldman, like so many editors these days, is terrified of public opinion and works mightily, and with futility, to control the discourse. A small group of people has been in charge of what the public knows for a long period of time. I've worked for many of them -- petty men and women who make decisions out of fear for their positions, not out of any journalistic ethic -- and know that they are terrified of losing what has been their only power -- a huge power at that -- the power to control information.

To me, this is the greatest gift and curse of the new age of information we are venturing into. We can bypass the traditional sources of information and opinion and find them on our own. I don't know if anyone is following the case of the Missouri girl who committed suicide after being taunted by neighboring adults. The media has decided not to name these people because they haven't yet been changed with any crime. But if you follow this link, you can find out those names. Personally, I look beyond the law to determine what I think is right or wrong. Even if there's no law against adults harassing a child, it's wrong. It's especially wrong when that child then acts out in a tragic way as Megan Meier did. It is not the province of the media to decide whether these people whould be identified or not. If you don't want your name associated with a heinous act, then don't commit it.

The tide has turned and it no longer the domain of a very few to decide what the rest of us can or can not discuss; what we can or cannot know. I've heard all the arguments they give about how they are "being fair," but fairness tends to be the last consideration in a newsroom and all "news judgements" are ultimately arbitrary depending largely on the editor's whims.

On the other hand, there was a really cool recipe on Chowhound that I tried the other day. It was for fried chickpeas and it was really tasty. I've tried to make these before, but they always come out kind of chalky, chewy gross. This made them quite delectable with a nice crunchy crust and soft, warm insides. The fried sage melts in the mouth and is delicious.

Fried chickpeas

1 can chickpeas
1/2 cup flour
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
salt to taste
10 or so large fresh sage leaves cut into one-half in strips

Rinse and drain the chickpeas. Mix the flour, paprika, and salt and place on a plate. Roll the chickpeas in the flour until they're covered. Heat 1/2 inch canola oil in a sturdy skillet. Add the chickpeas and fry until they are a golden brown, about 3 5o 5 minutes and drain on paper towels. Fry the sage, about a minute and drain on paper towels. Serve warm.

So despite the rather lock-step approach to message boards, there is still some good there. Just steer clear of any of the Chowhound TV shows -- they're AWFUL.

The.worst.experience.ever (and it wasn't the food)

We went to Las Vegas this past weekend because Rob's niece, Jessica, was getting married and we'd never been to Vegas. Everyone in Southern California has been to Vegas and pretty much everyone we know loves going there as often as possible. Rob and I have never really been tempted by Sin City -- we don't gamble, we don't drink and we don't have any weird sexual fantasies (OK I can only speak for myself on that last one, but as far as I know ...)


We'd been invited to this wedding early in the summer and Rob really wanted to go and see Jessica and I wanted to see Vegas. I had not foreseen at the time we made this decision that I would be unable to walk. Even when I knew about the surgery, even when the doctor said I'd be facing a long recovery, it really never added up. Even when I DID know how bad being semi-disabled was, I figured that Vegas was all man-made and the ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) would require everything to be accessible.

I figured we'd rent a scooter, which is expensive but worth it, and called ahead for one and asked for a special room with a bathroom for people with disabilities, which included a special shower bench (I have one for home BTW). It all seemed good. Of course, it wasn't.

First when we got to our hotel -- the Sahara -- we had to wait for more than 30 minutes by the bell station to even get the attention of the only guy who seemed able to rent the scooters. If you're on crutches, putting all your weight on a leg with a knee that has been diagnosed as beyond repair, you can't teeter there for too long.

After we got to our room we decided to go cruise around the Sahara grounds, after all neither of us has ever been in a casino. We got an elevator and I maneuvered the scooter into it. As we went down one guy got on with us -- but at the next floor the guy wouldn't get on, even through there was plenty of room. "He's afraid the cripple will rub off," I said to Rob, much to the amusement of the other guy in the elevator.

As the weekend progressed, we learned that elevators are a danger zone for people with disabilities. There was more than one occasion when we would be waiting and an elevator would come and everyone would run to it and shut the doors. leaving us there. I got progressively more aggressive about just scooting by/at people -- after all a scooter is going to hurt if you run into it.

I would say the world is divided into three parts. About a third of the people are really helpful and would make every effort to help. The other two-thirds either try to ignore the scooter or are openly hostile -- cutting me off
or blocking me.

Rob and I wandered around the casino, but we've never gambled, so we were a bit intimidated. No casino staff made any effort to help us out, even when we hovered by the roulette tables. I wondered if it had something to do with the superstitious nature of gamblers, who could tell at a glance that I'm not someone with very good luck. I wasn't sure we were being ignored until I saw the dealer dudes be all friendly and welcoming to other people who stood at the edge of the table. I did manage to lose $10 on a slot machine -- I won a couple of spins, but eventually lost it all.

We did go to the buffet, and while I could pick out what I wanted, it was impossible to carry a plate. What most people don't realize is that people who can't use their legs tend to have to use their hands to get around. If I'm on crutches, I have to use my hands to hold on, if I'm in a scooter I need my hands to make it move and to steer. It really didn't matter where I positioned myself, some people would make a Big Point of rudely reaching past me, even if the same stuff was directly in front of them. Another impossibility is doors. Big double glass doors are everywhere in Vegas and only a very few have buttons or sensors to open for people with disabilities. You can't get through them unless someone holds them open. This requires a lot of waiting, but it's also somehow demeaning. I can't go through a door when I want to, I have to wait for someone else to be kind enough to let me through.

I was getting increasingly uncomfortable with all of the limitations and the rude reactions of so many people. And while I'm more than grateful with the kindness of so many others, I'm not much for being the object of someone else's pity, so it's uncomfortable. I'm not a person who likes a lot of attention when I'm in public, and being disabled makes you the center of everyone's attention -- even if it's only for the freaky curiosity factor.

Rob and I found out that we would have to wait for a special taxi for the handicapped so we got ready to go over the the Mandalay Bay early and went down to the valet station at the Sahara. We ended up waiting about 45 minutes before a cab could be found that could take the scooter. I almost wiped out getting out because I had to back it down a ramp and I was having one of those Moments when I just couldn't figure out what I was doing. It was hysterical because I got more and more flustered and was about to kill myself by falling off the sides. I would go back and then jerk the steering. I'm not sure why. It was just a moment. Rob finally said DON'T move your arms, DON'T steer and I made it off.

We arrived in plenty of time for the wedding, which was really sweet. Jessica looked beautiful and is obviously in love. It was great to catch up with people we hadn't seen since her last wedding, especially for Rob who has a lot of history with everyone, this being his side of the family and all.

Then we went to the restaurant. We had reservations for 8 p.m. The restaurant is Mix, which is an Alain Ducasse restaurant and is really a lovely upscale place (see the picture above). We were waiting and waiting when I found out that the reason we were waiting was because the meal was going to be served in a small room at the top of a sweeping staircase in the middle of the restaurant. Jessica and her husband Daniel had begged and pleaded with restaurant staff to move us so I could just roll on in, but the restaurant staff was implacable. We were stuck with the room up the staircase. Screw ADA, screw even just being nice to cripples.

If there's one thing I really can't handle on crutches, it's stairs. It's a complicated balancing act that tends to propel me dangerously off-balance. A "sweeping staircase" was a nightmare for me. Rob just wanted to leave, but I didn't want to cause a scene and be rude to Jessica and Daniel. Of course going up the stairs, one torturous step at a time with people in front of me and behind me, right in the middle of the restaurant caused more than a scene. It was one of the most uncomfortable and humiliating experiences of my life. By the time I got to my place -- to much hand clapping *cringe* I was in tears. Of course it hit me then that I really needed to go to the bathroom. Sometimes life really sucks and not in a funny way.

Jessica and Daniel were mortified on my behalf and were hugely apologetic. But it wasn't their fault. The meal was amazing. The food was incredible and the service was professional, with an Alec Baldwin lookalike sommalier and the kind of waiters who fold your napkin if you leave the table. Unfortunately I was so upset that it took me a while before I was even able to eat. Fortunately I sat next to my son-in-law Ryan who is an eating machine -- one of those tall skinny guys who can just eat and eat and it doesn't seem to go anywhere. I was able to pass the food I couldn't eat to him much to his delight.

Part of my problem was the idea of facing the stairs going down. It's really really hard to go downstairs on crutches because you have to plant the crutches and bounce on one leg downward putting all your weight on your armpits. This action propels you forward and you don't really have much control. I really didn't want to be the floor show again, plus I was just plain terrified of being hurt again.

The setting was amazing with thousands of hand-blown glass balls of various sizes with mercury balls interspersed with lights in them. It was a beautiful, if strangely sterile and unwelcoming, place. It made me ever more sad to know that if I were walking normally, this would have been a delightful evening for us. After all, it's not every day you can go to a world-class restaurant on someone else's dime.

Rob, Ryan and I all had the beef tenderloin, which was served with amazing mashed potatoes, and some spinach-y, kale-y green. Lindsay had the salmon, which was also impressive, although I like my salmon a little rarer. The dessert was a candy bar mix, but the "candy bars" were little chocolate cakes with gold leaf and peanuts and a mound of sorbet, which was a lovely tart counterpoint to the rich chocolate. Lindsay, ever the rebel, had the baked Alaska, which had strawberries and was light and delightful.

The time came to go down the stairs and I was getting more and more worried with each passing moment. It was just as hard as I imagined, and my knew hurt worse than I imagined. By this time Mix, the nightclub, was hopping and packed with beautiful young people. Ryan and Lindsay had to run interference so I could get out. Then at the elevator people kept cutting me off when I tried to get on. I finally ended up yelling at a guy to get out of my way and ran over someone's foot.

We had to wait another half hour for a special taxi, but it was actually kind of fun because it was Halloween weekend and we got to watch all kinds of people in weird costumes. The Big Hit of the night was the slutty costume. Apparently slutty nurse, slutty babydoll or slutty slut are the de rigeur costumes for the many lovely young things who inhabit the Vegas night scene.

We finally got back to the hotel and to our room. Before we went to sleep, we looked at each other and vowed that as soon as we awoke, we were leaving. The morning after, we did just that. Leaving Las Vegas was never so sweet.

Ghosts in the Graveyard

Whenever I'm down, I find solace in the kitchen. I also enjoy the company of children, especially those close to me. So I had a perfect day planned whereby Kaia would come over and we would make Ghosts in the Graveyard. I first saw this dessert at a Halloween party at work back in Dayton and thought it looked really cool. Then I tasted it and I was hooked. I knew it would be something the whole family would love: chocolate pudding, Cool Whip and Oreo cookies. What's not to love?

I made this a couple of times for Kaia's birthday parties back when Gen lived in a small apartment in Montalvo and we had the parties over here. When they moved into their place over in the Ventura Keys, birthdays moved over to their house and the Ghosts in the Graveyard took a vacation. This year I decide Kaia was old enough and had her over and we made it together. This is such a great recipe to make with kids. It calls for 15 crushed Oreos -- although you really need at least double that. To crush them I put them in a freezer bag and hit it with my rolling pin. Kaia and I had a blast making our OReo "dirt."

Then you just mix the Jell-O instant chocolate pudding with Cool Whip along with half the crushed cookies. You put the other half of the crushed cookies on top, making the "dirt" for the graveyard. I use Pepperidge Farms Milano cookies to make headstones. Kraft used to use Milanos too, but then they switched to Nabisco Cameo cookies, which nobody likes, so we still use the Milanos. You make ghosts with whipped cream and decorate with candy corn and pumpkins. It's so tasty and so much fun.

This recipe is available at the Kraft Foods site

Ghosts in the Graveyard

2 four-serving Jell-O Instant chocolate pudding
3 cups cold milk
1 12 pounce container Cool Whip (be careful because it generally comes in 8-ounce containers)
15 Oreo cookies, crushed (I use at least twice that)
Candy corn
Candy pumpkins

Mix the pudding mix with the milk for two minutes. Let sit for 5 minutes then add 3 cups Cool Whip along with half of the crushed Oreos. Spread in a 9x13 inch pan and sprinkle the rest of the "dirt" on top. Let refrigerate for an hour. Right before serving decorate with whipped cream ghosts, cookies with initials (RIP BOO) the candy corn and the pumpkins.

Pikachu pinata

I wish I were able to report more upbeat news, but things aren't really going as well as I would like. It seem as though the guy who hit me was hugely underinsured, even though his driving record is atrocious. Then Courtney let me know that she, Dave and the boys won't be coming out for Christmas.

I can totally understand why Dave and Courtney don't want to drag a 6 month old and a 20 month old cross-country during the holidays and it's totally understandable, but Christmas is a huge, hairy deal for me and has become even more so now that I'm a grandmother, so it completely sucks. I was really looking forward to seeing the boys. They grow so fast and there's no way I'm going anywhere by air for awhile. The pit of self-pity just gets deeper.

So today, to take our minds off of things, Rob and I dedicated ourselves to finding a Pikachu pinata for Kaia's birthday party, which is this weekend and has a Pokeman these. Rob had to do the footwork, going from place to place looking for a Pikachu pinatas, we live near a Mexican neighborhood, so there are lots of pinatas around.

Rob and I have become the pinata suppliers for Kaia's birthday parties because a few years ago she and I were talking home from a little park a street over and we passed by a house where they were having a birthday party. Kaia really wanted to go up and mingle, but I had to explain that these were strangers and we couldn't go to the party. She said, "We'll go up and tell them our names and then they won't be strangers." But she wanted to watch for a bit and having nowhere pressing to be, I said OK. They had a big, old pinata and they were hitting it and she was completely transfixed.

Finally one of the older kids was able to crack it and candy spilled everywhere. It was all I could do to contain Kaia, whose instinct was to run and grab as much as she could. Fortunately someone at the party had noticed Kaia and picked up a big old handful of candy and brought it over to Kaia. I'm always so thankful for the nice people of the world, they are so few and far between. Anyway when Kaia's birthday party rolled around that year she made it clear she wanted a pinata so Rob and I bought her the biggest one we could find -- a pinata girl about 3 and a half feet tall -- and she just loved it. Last year we got a Care Bear-ish one and this year the assignment was a Pikachu one.

We quickly determined that there were no Pikachu pinata to be had, so looking online, we got the idea to remake a bear pinata into a Pikachu. Rob looked high and low and finally determined where the best pinata shop was. But they didn't have bears. They did, however, have a penguin that had the right proportions, generally, as Pikachu. So Rob got crepe paper and some poster board and I set about remaking the pinata.

This was the perfect project to take my mind off of things -- I got a call from my lawyer's legal aide wanting more information, but I just wasn't into it or anything else but the Pikachu. I just love the feeling of successfully completing one of these little crafty projects, I always feel so psyched, especially when they come out well, and this did, although I'm having trouble with the idea of kids tearing it up. Creativity is such a joy.

Tomorrow Kaia is coming over and we're making Ghosts in the Graveyard, my very very favorite Halloween dessert. More later.

Pity party

When life hands you a lemon -- make cookies! Kaia came over today and we made Halloween cookies. We make them every years, and even though I'm still off my foot for yet three more weeks, I've come up with a variety of ways to be able to make cookies. Of course, the main thing is having Rob able to help.

I really needed a cookie-baking afternoon because I'm starting to feel a bit beleagered by all that's happening. I went to the orthopedic surgeon about my knee and he basically said it was so messed up -- he gave me a list with five seperate things listed -- I'll probably need knee replacement surgery. But we have to get the right foot healed first. Then he drained some fluid and injected some stuff and it hurts worse than it did before.

So we're sitting around absorbing all of this when we get a call that Rob's mom has had a stroke. She has been transferred out of intensive care and seems out of immediate danger, so hopefully that will be OK.

I'd already called to ask to have Kaia come over because she just makes me smile. She's about to turn 6. She loves to bake cookies with me and it's so much fun. We've been doing it for a few years and I hope she continues to want to.