Food – Page 3 – ~*LunaSea*~

Getting Away

2007/10/202007/10/20 gr4c52 Comments

For years I have wanted to make it to the Pumpkin Fest in Keene, New Hampshire. I can’t remember all the reasons why we didn’t; all the excuses for not going in years past, but this year we finally made it! I ended up taking nearly 100 pictures. For every shot a little stress melted away. For every sweet pumpkin face I relaxed just a little more. Only an hour away from home but miles away from the madness.

There is something magical about pumpkins. I know there is no way I could put this into words. At least sanely. In short, I see faces in the uncarved orange orbs. I see Jack way before he is born. Today, it was fun to see the creativity of others. The messages people want to put out there – through a pumpkin. We saw a lot of Greenbay Packers pumpkins (what’s up with that?), a few Patriots pumpkins, and lots of humor. I personally liked the puking pumpkins best. It’s all I can do to stay away from the bottle myself these days. Pumpkins in trees, pumpkins on cannons, pumpkins in fountains, on street corners, in flower beds, on people’s heads. Kisa got a funny pic of me with two such nuts.
Then, there was the food. We started with sampling spicy pickles. They start off sweet and end with heat. Perfect for hamburgers. (We bought a jar on the way out.) Then we went for the whoopie. Pumpkin, of course. Next, teriyaki chicken on stick and garlic bread. Yet another whoopie. Pumpkin, of course.
We blew off the crafts except for the food related items. Heidi Jo was there so, of course, we had to buy nearly $40 worth of her wares (we missed her at the Big E). It was all about the food.
And the pumpkins.

Obsession

2007/10/102007/10/10 gr4c515 Comments

If my stomach was writing this, this would be the mother of all blogs, singing the praises of the perfect burrito while bowing down to the perfect partner.

If the items in this picture look at all familiar to you, you might be asking yourself, “Self, is it possible she’s in Colorado or New York and not Maine or even Massachusetts?” I would have to answer you with a voice full of glee and giggle, “It is true! I am not in Colorado, nor New York. Chipotle has come north of all that! North of Close Enough to ME! Chipotle has invaded Massachusetts and it’s about time!” There is only one restaurant right now with two more “coming soon.”
Kisa had the trip planned from Day 0. Keeping the plan a secret from me for four whole days must have been difficult because it meant getting me off the island on the earliest boat…on the last day. Getting me off the island can be a chore in itself if I’m not ready to leave. Luckily for him (and ultimately, my stomach) I boarded the 9am without complaint. It had been a long weekend.
TomTom told us the way to go. I have to admit I forgot all about The Secret Plan. Still having post-parting pangs I sulked as route 1 flew by my window. Moody’s was enough to distract me, work me out of my depression. Whoopies were just been whipped together. I bought the first of the batch. L.L. Bean only distracted me further with disappointment. I couldn’t find anything I liked (believe it or not). By the time we missed the exit for 495 South I remembered “the plan” and how secret it was.
616 Fellsway should be the name of my next pet. 616 Fellsway, Medford is the address to heaven. Heaven in a burrito. When we pulled into the parking lot I could barely believe my eyes. True to design, true to color scheme and true to chrome, there before my eyes lay the greatest place to eat my stomach has ever known. Chipotle. In all its glory. I heard a choir singing. Chipotle in all its aroma.
We ate our standards. For those of you in the know:
Rice: yes
Meat: chicken
Beans: black
Salsa: medium (corn, of course) & hot
Cheese: yes
Sour cream: yes
Lettuce: no

Drink: lemonade with a splash of sprite
Chips & salsa: yes

When we were finished gorging we went up again. To go.

Imposters

2007/10/052007/10/05 gr4c54 Comments

I will be glad to leave this world for a little while. Just for a short time, just enough to catch my breath. I am no better than these drummers disguised as chefs. Cooking up all the wrong things. Stirring up mayhem and madness. This weekend I’ll be glad to sit back and be only wife and daughter for a few days. A long weekend. Shed the illusion of Head Mucky-Muck for the time being. I don’t want to wear nice clothes. I don’t want someone to knock on my door and ask “can I interrupt?” No. I want to be eat-from-the-earth girl. Apples, leftover blackberries. Eye-behind-the-lens girl capturing everything that catches my heart. The must-have-lobsters-and whoopie-pies girl. Chocolate crumbs on my chin, white frosting on my fingertips. Face-in-a-book-and-wine-glass-on-knee girl. Oohh…books. Wine. I’m starting to drool. Maybe my book, it will be a girly-girl book. A dirty book. A fantastic book. Something that goes with Merlot. Something too delicious for Miss Mucky Muck.

School Spirit

2007/10/022007/10/02 gr4c5Leave a comment

1957
Look at the smile on this woman’s face. I absolutely love this picture. That’s the way I want to be thirty years from now, wearing red tights and sporting a fantastic attitude. She looks like she’s having a blast. Her smile is all about school spirit…either that or she’s very hungry. The parade ended at the dining hall and we were so close!

Finger sandwiches of turkey and roast beef. Tangy cold apple cider. Crunchy cookies on the table. Standing in the doorway of the dining room, looking out over a sea of faces staring back at me I had one of those panic moments – where can I sit? Who isn’t going to get up as soon as I sit down? Didn’t I say I’d sit with 72 & 82? Kisa and my confidence momentarily floated away. Different dining room, same dilemma. Luckily, we had assigned seating and all I had to do was make it to our table without dropping my tray.

After lunch was another first. A class picture. Five of us made it there. Hopefully, it will make it into the newsletter. Won’t mom be proud?

To be continued…

Elaborate Mind Break

2007/09/262007/09/27 gr4c5Leave a comment

I admitted I was losing my desire to cook. That utterance alone was enough to scare me into therapy. Since when did cracking open a cookbook not motivate me, move me, make me happy? Recently. When I started The Affair and felt awful. That’s when.

I’m happy to say the spell has been broken. I’ve ended my rendezvous with Mr. V. There’s even a rumor that Mr. V. will be going away permanently and I couldn’t be more pleased. In the meantime, I’ve become reacquainted with my cookwear again.
Last week it was Greek turkey burgers complete with feta, oregano, red onion, spinach, roasted red peppers, garlic, Kalamatas, pepperoncini, cucumbers, lemon and yogurt. Last night it was inspiration from Tyler and Emeril: pork chops in autumn, noodles and cauliflower. “Pork chops in Autumn” just means the chops were served over a saute of Granny Smiths, Vidalias, Savoy, Calvados, butter, bay, thyme and marjoram. For some reason I didn’t want to serve just egg noodles so I dressed them with butter, s&p, and lemon zest. The cauliflower was roasted with evoo, garlic, s&p, and lemon juice. Aside from turning off a burner and not noticing for 20 minutes…and then roasting a plate at 500 degrees (!), the meal went really well. One for the books, as they say, mistakes and all.
I’m not sure what’s on the menu for tonight. Kisa is under the weather and I am beyond frazzled. I am heart weary and dead tired. I owe phone calls and thanks to people so fantastic I am left speechless. I will get to you, I promise! In my heart, you are my lovely.
The only thing left to say is it’s amazing what a 500 degree oven will do to a plate. Go figure.

Another World

2007/09/242007/09/24 gr4c56 Comments

I’ve always thought I would like living under the sea, or in an aquarium…at the very least. The watery depths have always appealed to me. Maybe it’s because there is silence, pure silence. Inhabitants glide by, float by, dance by effortlessly, carelessly, and silently. Maybe because there is speckled sunlight near the surface but, for the most part, mostly there is only darkness. Murky and mysterious. It’s misleading but the ocean’s depths seem calm, quiet, even patient. What a contrast to the world above.
Me, I had contrasting worlds on Sunday. Sometime during the day I lost my energy. I put it down somewhere and promptly misplaced it. I spent most of the late afternoon in a self-induced stupor. Sleeping in fits, staring at the tv in a wide-eyed trance, eating things straight from containers. I watched nearly an entire season of “So You Think You Can Dance?” I got drawn in by the contestants while shoveling large spoonfuls of cottage cheese into my mouth; I put myself on the panel of judges and instantly became judgemental and sour. Surely she can’t win. He looks too goofy. Who am I to judge? One girl looked like she could bench press me with one arm and I was calling her a losing contestant?
Everyday has to have one redeeming quality, just one. Here it is: Earlier in the afternoon I ran over five miles after working out. Yes. What a contrast to the couch I just confessed to. I actually put hand to weight and lifted. And then, and then got on the treadmill for an hour! Imagine that! I know a certain someone will scoff at my paltry five miles. I can hear him now, “Five miles? An hour? Is that it? I’m just getting warmed up!” But, I’m proud of my five. Wait. Over five. I think it was more like 5.36 or something. Anyway. I’m proud of this run because it’s the first one that felt like me in a long time. The music between my ears matched the desire in my heart and fueled my feet to run. Then. I hit the couch. Go figure!
The contrast between treadmill and tv time is tremendous. One world colliding with another. Yet, both worlds are mine.

Navigationally Lost

2007/09/202007/09/20 gr4c5Leave a comment

I have made the decision to go home. I wasn’t going to – make the decision or go home. Neither was in my best interest until my life got beyond interesting. Let’s face it. I’m a creature of habit and my habit is to go home in the waning days of summer’s warmth. When the mornings are cool enough for a sweatshirt and the afternoon, shorts. When coffee steams hot at daybreak and ice cream cools the midday sunshine.
I need to go home become my astrocompass has lost its true anything. I need direction. I need my mother to teach me how to make MeltInYourMouth rocky road fudge complete with pockets of sticky sweet marshmallow and crunchy walnuts. In this week I’ve lost my love for the kitchen and that scares me. I sigh and slouch on the couch and say “let’s order out.” Subway for dinner should be a sin.
My magnet is more than one morning in Maine. I’m drawn to the ocean if only to drown the feeling of being directionally duped. The pull of the island is too strong to put aside. I will go. Navigate me so I can TumbleHome.

Kitchen Healing

2007/09/162007/09/17 gr4c52 Comments

Yesterday was all about me. Girly and giggly, I indulged in fun and food and friends. I needed this. Needed to sip away sorrows of an anniversary long ago; needed to drown myself until I was back here, back to now, back to loving my life. Kisa took the wheel while I took to the wine. Together we sampled dips and chips, sauces and soups. Simply Tasteful something-er-rather. Someone asked me about kids, then asked my age. I don’t know why I was suprised over their shock. I see myself everyday so I should know. Later. Home. BubbleGum and Gravity, letting my favorite drummer find my heart. Find my favor.

Today, I took to the kitchen for Kisa. Breakfast was apple pancakes from scratch. Granny Smiths grated in the thick, multigrain batter, cooked slow. A topping of apple slices sauteed in small amounts of butter, brown sugar and maple syrup. Hot coffee to wash it all down. A meal to last all morning. Only blueberries could make it better.
Lunch was indulgent enough to be called dinner. Inspired by season-ready tomatillos I created a Mexican buffet:
Enchiladas – chicken, sour cream, onion (finely minced), cream cheese, Monterey cheese, tabasco, chili powder, cumin, and smoked paprika stuffed in multigrain tortillas. Baked with sauce – garlic, chipotles & tomatillos roasted and pureed. So simple, so yummy (thanks, Rick!). This has got to be one of my favorite meals.
Red beans and Rice – lime juice, red beans and brown rice (kept simple to mix up with the other dishes).
Tacos – beef, chili powder, cumin, Tabasco, cayenne pepper, onion, tomatoes, black olives, jalapenos, lettuce, cheese, salsa, avocado….
I left the kitchen looking like a tornado-torn town. My kind of cooking.

Dessert was something I picked up from Reading Lolita in Tehran: Coffee ice cream, cold coffee and pecans. Simple and sweet.

So, September is slipping away. Halfway gone. Pretty soon it will be crockpot cooking, slipper & sweater wearing, shut-the-windows weather. Something to look forward to: Tuesday!

Wedding Waddle

2007/09/122007/09/12 gr4c58 Comments

Since when did I start liking cake? I’ve never liked cake. For years and years I have been the one to bypass the big layers of bad and go for the fruit whatever. I’m a pie or tart girl. When did I give up the eat smart/eat healthy routine and opt for the Bring It On attitude? Examples: when our Austrian friends got married I attacked the buffet line like a linebacker with a big bite. When our German friends got married I got my own huge plate of everything and thensome. I had a healthy belly for the beverages, too. Merlot and two sour apple martinis. In that order. When did that happen? It happened to go right to my head.
To celebrate the season finale of The Closer Kisa and I ordered pizza. We stayed true to our tradition of wheat crust. Everything else went by the wayside. We ordered two zahs: Greek goodness (feta cheese, black olives, spinach, tomatoes, double cheese)…and an Aloha (ham, bacon, pineapple and…you guessed it, double cheese). Caution to the wind, diet be damned. It was damn good.
To make matters worse, my illicit affair with the vending machine has started up again, too. In short time I’ve got my routine down to a science. I wait until no one is around, slowly sidle up to the humming, glowing love machine of sweet and whisper my own sweet nothings in the form of quarters. Mr. V gives me exactly what I want, when I want it. I steal away, tearing open the wrapper, devouring chocolate and salt as I retreat back to my office as quickly as I can. I don’t want to be caught in the act, but the evidence of my betrayal lies in the trash. I won’t lay claim to it if confronted. Yet. Yet, I’m waiting for the day when I no longer care. When that day comes I’ll flaunt my unhealthy relationship with Mr. V. and brazenly chose a Snickers or Doritos with ease. E5 and B2. I’ll blatantly leave candy bar and potato chip wrappers in my wake, not even bothering to cover the crime. That day can’t be far off.
For some reason I’m liking this throw caution to the wind consumption, this eat everything in sight daring…except when it’s time to squeeze into those professional slim-cut pants or those cut-off-the-circulation panties. It’s enough constriction to go commando. When did this happen? Where was I when the health nut decided to leave town?

Time Tempted

2007/08/132007/08/13 gr4c5Leave a comment

There are so many things crashing around in my head I couldn’t write a straight-up, this-is-my-life blog even if I wanted to. Like a maze of the brain I’m not even sure which way to start and it feels like there is no getting out. No way out.

The stupid things: there is a wasp buzzing in my office and there is a phone guy banging on my window. I don’t want the wasp to sting me, nor the maintenance guy to break the glass. I’m distracted by the worry of either (or both) of these things happening. I realize the wasp is just looking for a way out and the phone guy is just trying to rewire my office. Yet, I worry all the same. Don’t break my skin, nor my window.

The serious stuff: XCP needs registrations. I haven’t called the publics for liason capabilities. I just got the okay. ACE needs library interaction. We’ll set something up for the second week of school but it all takes planning. PALS starts in 3 weeks and I don’t think we are ready to serve our own public never mind theirs. I have a class in two days and I haven’t even looked at the schedule. Should I be worried that security clocked in but lied about where they went? Should I be concerned that I’m ignoring the vacation time I’m supposed to be taking? I don’t like butting heads with the clearly not here.

The other life: We bought a treadmill and I nearly ran 2.5 miles in 35 minutes. That doesn’t seem like much but consider this – warm up AND cool down are included in that 35. I’m getting there but I’ll blog elsewhere about the details. Grandad is giving up the fight. I hope he sees ghosts. My friend is pining for a married someone and she can’t walk away. Won’t let go. I don’t know who is hurting more. Cape Cod seemed a necessary journey if only to call it home. I recognize the damaged goods in myself. Thank you letters are not flowing from the pen like they should. What more can you say beyond simple gratitude? I got your letter. I’m just thinking of something to say beyond HowAreyou?

Time tempted: I made chicken tortilla soup last night. Red peppers and sweet vidalias sauteed with chunks of chicken, salt, pepper, coriander, thyme and cumin. Fresh salsa. Avocado, lime, tomatoes, cilantro, homemade tortilla strips seasoned with chili and cajun spices. Pepper jack cheese. Served with chili-lime corn on the cob and cold beer. Summer fiesta. Tonight I want to smoke pork chops in sweet apple wood chips. Serve them with crispy garlic green beans and chunky apple sauce…or maybe roasted broccoli and spicy apple rings made from Grannies. I don’t have a lot of time to think out meals.
Two nights ago I slept in fear of calf cramps. Last night the dreams were worse. I see you as I want you to be.

Accidental Connoisseur

2007/07/302010/01/19 gr4c55 Comments

Osborne, Lawrence. The Accidental Connoisseur: An Irreverent Journey Through the Wine World. New York: Fair Point Press, 2004.

Even though I don’t know much about wine and I probably wouldn’t have picked up this book if it weren’t for the challenge, I had to admit this: ILMAO. Lawrence Osborne has a great deal of fun with the punny, the witty, and the downright funny. Right off the bat, on page four, he had me giggling with “all drinks came under the Arabic word alcohol, essentially reducing them to a level of chemical sin, and none of them could be bought on Sunday.” Especially since we had downed a wine called Evil on vacation, thanks to Stacey. See below for the proof.

Even if you aren’t a wine drinker or even a wine liker, Osborne’s writing will amuse you. He has phrases that are somewhat identifiable as my own, “when the happiness of drinking overwhelms you, you cannot resist it” (p 21) and “Wine is 99% psychological, a creation of where you are and with whom” (p 22). This makes me sound wildly alcoholic, but bear with me a second. Think of any great seduction scene. Who is usually front and center (along with soft music and sexy candlelight)? Partners in crime – a wine bottle and two wine glasses. I found that a glass of wine is definitely more pleasurable when enjoyed in the presence of good friends and equally good scenery.
Seriously, I learned a lot from this short book. For example, how you space the vines in each row determines the complexity of a wine (according to one grower). The theory is plants with less crowding don’t have to compete for sunlight and growth space. They are more relaxed and get this, less stressed out. You see, the more stressed out a plant is, the more psychotic it is. It’s this aggrivated state that develops the complexity of flavor. Got it? I learned a new wine word, too: terroir. Makes me think of ‘terror’ but whatever.

Other favorite parts: “”what do you taste?” “Grapes,” I said. “Good. That’s what’s in it!”” (p 97)

“If wine is sex, ” I said, “this is like yoga.”
“Yoga? You’re saying it’s like yoga?”… I’m not sure I get you there. You mean athletic?”
“Virtuous. Unsexy.”
“Ah, you mean American!” (p 101)

But, probably my favorite line is an obvious one, “Wine summons ghosts out of the cupboard” (p 228).

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust in the chapter “A Holiday Shopping List” (p 115). It’s true that I would buy this for the wine lover that I know, only I don’t think he drinks and reads. Is that a problem?

RobinElla Rolled with It

2007/07/302007/07/30 gr4c51 Comment

RobinellaCD While kisa was rocking out at Fenway to the sounds of Sting & Co., I was at the Iron Horse, enjoying a Wicked Wally and listening to RobinElla with a good friend. I think I had the better deal, if you ask me!
I didn’t write down a setlist. For starters, I didn’t have a pen. I also didn’t know as many of the songs as I thought I would. RobinElla has come out with four albums and I only have the latest, Solace for the Lonely. I decided halfway through her set that I would buy whichever album had “Dress Me Up” because I liked it that last time she was here and I loved it this time. “Man Over” also won me over. Unfortunately, the IH doesn’t take credit cards and I didn’t think ahead to get cash. Getting mugged makes you consider what’s worth carrying. So, I promised myself I’d go to RobinElla’s website and get whatever I wanted directly from her. But, back to the music.
RobinElla opened with “Down the Mountain” and sang it so differently I almost didn’t recognize it. She entertained us with covers (Alison Kraus) and stories. As S & I sat there, savoring mounds of deep chocolate brownie, creamy vanilla icecream, gooey hot fudge sauce and whipped cream (of course) I couldn’t help thinking about how perfect everything was. I had run earlier (met S with a red face) so I wasn’t feeling guilty about the decadent dessert; We had great seats (in other words not right under Robinella’s nose). I love her voice voice, her humor (who in the world is Hans? Her joke about eye candy was spent on Cruz the last time we saw her), her country grace. When we got her to come back up for an encore I asked for “I Fall in Love (as Much as I Can)” just because it’s my favorite. Robinella added some humorous adlibs and I knew I had yelled out the right request.

ps~ this pic is not from our night out. I was too chicken to take pics!

raindrops revive

2007/07/262007/07/26 gr4c5Leave a comment

Third day home. We had the morning to hike our asses off; to get to the places we didn’t cover the day before. Cathedral to destroy fairy houses built in bad places (& rebuild for good), Gull Pond to ponder the gulls, Blackhead if only to get lost on deer trails, the lighthouse. Giant sandwiches for lunch. Giant appetites to match. I still can’t believe I could eat so much! When the storm crept across the sky we were already lounging across couches, groaning with bellies full and books cracked open. This picture was taken from my vantage point on the couch. We ~~didn’t~~ couldn’t move for hours.

The rain never bothers me at home. Things get a little muddy, but somehow the air tastes different after a good, good storm. The salt has been replaced by something sweeter. The stuff myths are made of. I can’t explain it anymore than that. The rain helped my equilibrium as well. The scales were being tipped in favor of here and, for once, there finally started to slip away.

Under the Tuscan Sun

2007/07/252010/01/20 gr4c52 Comments

Mayes, Frances. Under the Tuscan Sun: At Home in Italy. New York: Broadway Books, 1997.

Under the Tuscan Sun was made into a movie I have never seen, nor do I think I ever want to. I don’t see how the richness of Mayes’s Italy comes to life on the silver screen. I can’t picture the blood, sweat and tears of rebuilding a house; the glorious smells of garden fresh cooking; the love and laughter of enjoying one’s surroundings in moving pictures. I don’t see how Mayes’s lush language is communicated. Really. Tuscan Sun is the journey of a woman (with the help of her second husband) to rebuild a Tuscan farmhouse. While she struggles with culture, language barriers and politics she falls in love with her Italian life. Try as I might I can’t see it as a movie. Okay, so now maybe I’ve convinced myself to see it out of curiosity!
I think I’m having trouble picturing a movie because I read Under the Tuscan Sun in my own personal paradise – by the dying light of fiery sunsets with the cadance of the surf as my only distractions. To say that I devoured Under the Tuscan Sun is an understatement. During the day I read it between hiking, eating, and breathing in my own love affair with a place. Every single time Mayes gushed about her Italian home I wanted to challenge her. I wanted to boast that it was I, not she, who was living the perfect life. On page 86 she says, “Where you are is who you are. The further inside you the place moves, the more your identity is intertwined with it. Never casual the choice of place is the choice of something you crave.” I found that quote so profound to my place I had to choke back tears. It is hard to explain arriving on Monhegan and reading those words on the very first night home. I had arrived to the only place my soul knows intimately. The only place where my whole being breathes a sigh of relief. Home is who I am, for sure. Later, I bought a guestbook for our rental cottage and wrote Mayes’s same words on the inside cover.

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust in the chapter called “Ciao, Italia” (p 46). I like that Pearl describes Mayes adventure as a “love affair” (p 47). We’re both on the same page with this book.

My love affair:

Sigh of this Soul

2007/07/242007/07/24 gr4c5Leave a comment

This is my first night home. I remember being exhausted from not sleeping well the night before (I never can in a strange place); tired from traveling all day; tired from being on the water (boats always make me drowsy), and tired from that other life’s load. It was a relief to finally set it down.
We ordered pizza right off the boat. The Humble, large with mom. Sue set aside goat cheese and a decadent dessert for me. Chocolate and cream. We crowded around the dining room table and laughingly devoured it with wine. Welcome home. I felt like a six year old, like Queen Eloise. Skipping and giggling, giddy to be back where I belonged.
Later, Kisa and I slipped away to view the dying light of day, just the two of us, hand in hand. A simple hike to what I call Heather’s point. With arms around each other we talked the “what ifs” of living here, working here, loving here, being here for good. Wild fantasy and speculation gave way to silence as we pondered the possibilities. Lost in our own thoughts of what could be. On that first day nothing seemed impossible.