sentimental food

the other day i was at a loss for what to make scott and i for dinner. i knew i had chicken breasts thawed, so i figured i would do something with that. sometimes chicken breasts can be boring. i wasn't sure what to do when scott mentioned something about a recipe his mom used to make when he was a kid. he said, "why don't you try making chicken milanese?"

he's requested this dish before, but honestly, i was afraid to make it because it held sentimental value for him. he says his mother isn't known for her ability in the kitchen, but this dish was one she used to make all the time. i didn't want to screw it up and ruin his memory of one of his favorite meals. but that night i guess i was willing to take that risk.

oddly enough we had all the ingredients necessary for the recipe. i vaguely knew what chicken milanese was, but to the internet i went anyway. after searching around a little bit, i ended up on epicurious.com. it's such a great website! i found a recipe for lemon chicken milanese. i made just a few adjustments to the original, but it turned out anyway.

basically, all you have to do is flatten out your chicken breasts until they're about 1/2 an inch thick. they then get a bath in eggs (or eggs and milk, whichever you prefer). after that, coat them in a mixture of panko (or bread crumbs), parsley, oregano, salt and pepper. i had grated asiago cheese on hand, as well as crushed red pepper, so i added those to the panko mixture.

make sure to thoroughly coat both sides of the chicken. heat about 3 tbsp oil over medium-high heat in a skillet. saute the chicken until they're golden brown, about 5 minutes per side. keep an eye out so they don't burn.

after mine were done, i placed them on plates, squeezed a little lemon over them and they were done. i served them with a simple arugula and spinach salad with olive oil, white balsamic vinegar, grated asiago cheese and tomato wedges on the side.

after his first bite, scott said, "this tastes just like i remember. i haven't had this in probably 10 years." that was the perfect reaction - just what i was looking for. i didn't ruin his memory of his mom's chicken milanese...just added to it.

gimme lean chili

yesterday, as most sundays go, scott and i get up at 8am to watch "cbs sunday morning". for me, that didn't happen. the night before was spent at our good friends' house having dinner and wine. needless to say, i slept in a little yesterday morning. but when i finally awoke, it was time for coffee and our sort of sunday routine.

i cleaned the bathroom, the kitchen and the living room. did the dishes and vacuumed all the floors. scott was upstairs in his studio and he emerged in time to suggest breakfast. usually we'll go to the 11worth cafe on sundays, but lately we've been skipping it. not sure why. i love that place.

instead, we took the recycling in, stopped at lowe's and headed home with lunch. as usual, i was thinking about food and asked him what he wanted for dinner. he said, "casserole" which sounded odd coming from his mouth. especially since it's not the 1950's and i've never made a casserole for us before. i just kind of laughed. "okay", i thought. so, i said, "how about lasagna?" his response was typical, "have you ever made a lasagna before?" (i've made about 3 or 4 since we've been together)

okay, lasagna is out. hmmm....what to make for dinner. the car was silent as we made our way home. "well, how about chili? and cornbread?" that sounded like a good cold-weather meal to me. scott said yes, but with one exception. he wanted TVP; fake meat.

i'm fine with that, i told him. but i've just never cooked with ground TVP before. so i went to the store with a chili recipe in my head and picked up my list of ingredients. chili has to be one of the easiest dishes to make. basically all you have to do is put what you like in it and let it simmer.

i included:
-onion
-garlic
-jalapeno peppers
-2 cans fire roasted diced tomatoes
-kidney and black beans
-chicken broth
-tomato paste
-balsamic vinegar
-herbs and spices (oregano, red pepper flakes, chili powder, coriander, cumin, cayenne, bay leaves, salt and pepper)
-and of course, one package of TVP

i let it simmer for about an hour and it was outstanding. i've never really been a huge red meat eater, but i always did like ground beef in my chili. i believe i've been converted. scott loved it and went back for more, so i guess my first try at faux chili was a success.

the real question is, would my meat-eating father and brother be able to tell the difference...?

on the menu tonight

today i was at work and daydreaming. it happens a lot. i have a recurring daydream, as well. it's usually paris-related. this time, however, it was merely french-related. and of course it involved food.

when scott and i visited las vegas in april, i booked reservations at l'atelier de joel robuchon inside the mgm grand hotel. i had done serious restaurant research prior to this trip and i had wanted to eat at this fabulous place so badly. i booked us for the tasting menu. it was hands down the most decadent meal i've ever had in a restaurant. but one element of one dish stood out to me that particular night: the puree of cauliflower. it was outstanding.

oddly enough, we had it a second time during our stay in las vegas. this time it was at wolfgang puck's bar and grill where my wonderful friend, dustin lewandowski, is the executive chef.

i decided vegas was on to something besides gambling and extravagant shows. they love their cauliflower puree.

so, today, as i placed an IV catheter in a dog, my mind wandered....what was for dinner tonight?

and it hit me...cauliflower puree.

tonight's menu:
balsamic chicken breasts
cauliflower puree
sauteed green beans with bacon and onions

i hope it turns out as well as my memory.

how i got to homemade mulligatawny soup

let me start by saying indian food is my favorite food in the world. i worked at an indian restaurant as a server for about 2 years until i moved to paris. it's funny, because i used to eat there all the time and i always got the same server; a very nice girl called jenn. one afternoon as i was finishing my lunch, jenn brought my check to the table. i told her i was a little embarrassed to ask, but, were they hiring at the moment? she checked for me and brought me an application. soon after, i was waiting tables at my favorite restaurant.

it was hard work, but it was all worth it when my shift was over. we were allowed to graze from the food left in the kitchen and i looked forward to it all night. i tried every dish on the menu and never got tired of it. i wanted to learn how to cook it at home.

it wasn't easy. i usually cheated and just bought the bottled sauces from the market. it clearly wasn't the same. soon after, i moved to paris. and for almost a year, i craved the indian food i loved so much.

don't get me wrong, paris had it's fair share of indian restaurants. in fact, there was an entire area devoted to them. basically it was an alleyway called passage brady nestled in the 10th arrondissement. it's not to be mistaken for the larger, actual indian neighborhood in the 18th, but it held it's own.

this was as close as i could get to satisfying my craving for indian food. but the soup was missing. i loved nothing more at my old restaurant job than the mulligatawny soup. it was and is incredible. it was the first thing i ate when i returned to the united states.

so here i am, in omaha, sharing a house with scott. as i said before, i love to cook and he loves to eat, so our arrangement is ideal. i've always wanted to make mulligatawny soup from scratch but was terrified to do so. and besides, all the recipes i managed to find included chunks of chicken and that is not how i wanted my soup to be. i began my hunt for a vegetarian mulligatawny recipe and i found one!

i should give credit where credit is due: http://foodandspice.blogspot.com/2007/05/vegetable-mulligatawny-soup.html

i made a few alterations, but basically followed the recipe as written. i used my spices i already had in the cupboard (which were all of them). i used already-ground spices and toasted them as stated. i used 3 potatoes and omitted the turnips because they didn't look good at the store. i used a whole onion and 3 carrots. the beauty of this style of soup is the flexibility with the vegetables. you can pretty much include what you like.
i didn't have curry leaves, so i used the bay leaves i had on hand. i also didn't have chickpea flour, instead i used regular flour - not sure if it really mattered..seemed fine to me.
i think the biggest alteration i made with this soup was using chicken stock rather than vegetable stock. i know it's a vegetarian recipe, but i prefer the taste of chicken stock in soups over vegetable stock.
at the end of simmering, after the coconut milk and salt had been added, i threw in some chopped cilantro and squeezed some lemon juice into it.
i served it with rice in the soup and some cilantro and lemon wedges. it was perfect.

i conquered my fear of mulligatawny soup.

now there's nothing i can't cook.

we all have to eat, right?

so, scott thought i should include a new section in my blog (which i barely ever write in, anymore, but want to). i love to cook and he loves to eat, so our arrangement is working out well for both of us. he suggested i include what i've cooked for the two of us in my blog. we've been together now for a year and i've been cooking for us the entire time. i guess now is a good time to start documenting our culinary relationship.

i don't take cooking lightly. it's serious business. some people go to the gym. some people power clean their house. some people see a shrink.

cooking is my therapy.

i find it cathartic. it clears my mind. i feel a sense of freedom in the kitchen. i love the idea of spreading ingredients out on the counter and taking my knife to the usual suspects....garlic and onions...and watching it become just what i had in mind. just what i craved for that night.

i love nothing more than to prepare and cook a meal. i'll share it all here. it feels good to get it all out.

my series of infinite moments, part 1

in november of 2003, just weeks before i turned 24 years old, i moved to paris. well, i actually moved to sèvres, but who's counting? it took a 5 minute bus ride to be in paris, proper. but even now, writing that i lived in france seems somehow foreign to me. i can't really believe i went through with it.
i followed the advice of a friend who had moved to germany to be an au pair. so, i visited the agency's website and decided i wanted to move to france. i spent almost 6 months or more scanning families, posting my information, looking at photos, reading family bios, and the like. it was an odd process, to say the least. i mean, i was basically "shopping" for a family and they, on the other end, were doing the same. i came across a family with 3 girls, which is what i wanted. see, at the time i was interested in this, i was still on the fence about liking kids or not. i thought girls would be easier to deal with. this family wanted a native english speaker to help the girls with their english homework and to speak to the youngest, who was 4 at the time.
so, i placed a posting with the family and continued with my search. i would say it was about a week later when i received a phone call from a weird number. i answered it without thinking and on the other end was a man with the thickest french accent i'd ever heard. he explained to me who he was and said he was interested in hiring me as their au pair.
i didn't say a word. i actually hung up on him.
i thought it was a joke; one of my friends screwing with me, maybe. i didn't expect to be contacted that quickly and it took me totally off guard.
i stood in my living room shocked at what i just did! i was all sweaty and nervous and then the phone rang again, so i knew it wasn't a prank. i answered and it was the same voice again. i had to lie and tell him i lost the connection. see, once i acknowledged the voice was real, that meant what i was doing was real. it wasn't just looking anymore. it was really happening.
his name was phillipe. how perfect i thought. his wife was called valerie and his three daughters were fiona (age 9), amandine (age 7) and aurelie (age 4). i loved them instantly. i couldn't wait to see them. their story was an interesting one. the family had just returned to france from a 4-year stint living in england, where phillipe had a job. his employer was transferring him back to his home country and valerie also had to go back to work. this is the reason they needed an au pair. this is the reason they needed me.

ten years in ten years

when i was 18 i never really imagined where i would be or, more importantly, who i would be in 10 years. i recently passed on the opportunity to go to my 10-year high school reunion. i believe i made the right choice. let's face it, i never liked high school. my best friend lives in denver and there's no way she'd go, and my only other friend from high school gave me endless crap for not going. i think i've apologized enough. anyway...
i saw some photos from the reunion and since then, for some reason, some of them have come out of the virtual woodwork on facebook. so many of them are married. with kids. some of them even married people from our graduating class! i am still in shock when i come across girls i used to know and now they're all married.
i wonder if i've missed out on something? am i the freak?
i mean, like i said, i couldn't even imagine what i'd be like when i was 28.
but here i am. i'm 28 years old and i'm certainly not disappointed in who i've become or what i've done so far. i didn't really have lofty expectations, so i guess couldn't possibly be disappointed. i've traveled to places i never thought i'd go, seen and done things that still carry memories i'll have forever.
i am in the best relationship i've ever been in. i guess that's another thing i never expected, but it happened anyway. i'm single as far as my taxes are concerned, but i'm not alone. and i'm the happiest i've ever been.

the dead and the dying

people cry at my job. on a regular basis. their eyes well up. they weep. they use tissues. often times they sob uncontrollably.
this is what happens at my job.
it is not until these moment i realize what an unusual job i have.
i knew these things would happen when i decided on this field. i knew the level of heartbreak and sadness before i even stepped through the door. but i made it a part of my daily life anyway.
when it happens, even if it's expected, it always blindsides me. it sneaks up on me like a practical joke, but never elicits a laugh.
growing up, i considered my dog an integral part of my life. she was a member of the family. i'm not so sure i was her favorite, however. you see, i used to dress her up in doll clothes and carry her around like a baby. she loved my father the most. it was so easy to see.
but i wasn't so much a part of her life. i was very young when she was introduced to me and i lead a relatively normal childhood life; i went to school, did homework, hung out with friends. the dog, as i saw it, was my parents' responsibility.
i wasn't even living at home when she died.
my mother called me...said my father was taking her in. she was an old dog by then. she'd had a good run. these realizations didn't make anything any easier. she was buried where she lived. there is a spot in the flower bed i visit every time i go home: pepper.
i consider myself a very compassionate person. i have empathy. i can feel others' pain. but when you see as much death and dying as i do, you develop a tolerance for it. jesus, that sounds cold. just reading that makes me feel heartless.
i can't cry for every animal that doesn't make it. i can't cry for every family's decision. i can't shed tears for every dog or cat that passes on. if i did, i'd never make it in this business.
don't get me wrong, i am most definitely sad for each pet. i can't say the same for each family. some of these families let it get this bad. they neglected or were irresponsible and as a result, they lose a pet.
sometimes i see that as a personal 'fuck you' from their pet and from me.
if they are going to treat their pet like shit, they don't deserve to have it. sometimes these dogs and cats have spent so much neglected time in pain and misery so the only humane thing to do is to end it all.
but there are those moments you know are coming. you know it's just a matter of time. this dog or cat is very much a member of the family and these people love it more than they can describe. they have gone above and beyond to give it the life it has deserved.
but life, as it has a habit of doing, ends.
those are the moments that break me down.
imagine: 14+ years with an animal. waking up every morning and seeing it's trusting eyes, feeling it's tongue on your face, it's paws on your chest. imagine: playing tug-o-war with it's favorite rope and fetch with it's favorite ball. imagine: long walks to the park and car rides with it's head hanging out of the window. imagine: the purr that says, "you're my favorite." then imagine that moment when you have to say goodbye. that one moment when you wish they could reply to you when you said, "i love you, i'm sorry. i'll miss you."
it's a sadness and desperation i can't even begin to put into words.
that sadness and desperation is completely indescribable when it's your boss's or co-worker's pet.
i knew going into this that i'd be dealing with strangers' grief. nothing prepared me for the grief of my co-workers.
she'd had him forever it seemed. he'd been with her since day one. he was the last of the "original crew". but he was giving her clues.
he'd been through so much. this time last year he was trying to go. strokes, seizures, arthritis...you name it. but he was still the bumbling idiot dog that loved her so much.
it was no longer fun for him to be a dog. she knew that. we all knew it. and that seems to be our line to cross: when it's no longer fun to be an animal, we need to do what's expected of us. we have the power to let them go with good memories.
there was nobody around but the three of us. it's almost as if everyone knew to just stay away for a moment. she was so stoic about it all...that is her personality. i wrapped my arms around his big head and gave him a kiss on his temple. his arm was shaved and prepped. she held his face in her hands and told him what a good boy he was. she kissed him on his nose; that space just between his eyes (the perfect spot).
and then he was gone.
just gone.
and as soon as he was gone, so was she. out the door. long drive home. beers to be had that night. memories running rampant.
i could not stop myself. i wept. i sobbed. i didn't even try to hide it from my co-workers. we all try to be so tough...to not let things get to us.
this was getting to me. it got me and it still has me.
i have been down this road before. now, as an adult, i have lost pets of my own. i lost finnegan. he was my fluffy orange cat with a personality like no other.
out of nowhere he shrunk to almost half his body weight. they tried everything. he'd contracted a terminal disease. it won. he lost. i still miss him.
people cry at my job. i cry at my job. i can never predict when it's going to happen, but i know it will happen.
this job puts my life into perspective. whether it's with our pets, our family, our spouses, our girlfriends or boyfriends. this is our only life. someday someone will grieve for us. until then, i plan on wearing my heart firmly on my sleeve and making sure those around me know just how much i care for them.
and i'll cry whenever i need to. no matter where i am.

it's kind of like make-believe

i live alone. i've tried it all so far. lived at home, moved out with my older brother, lived with boyfriends, friends, french families and alone again. i walk around my apartment and sometimes i forget it's real. i'm not pretending and it's not make-believe. this is my space with my things, my pets and my particular silence. i'm not acting like an adult with my own place. i am an adult with my own place. inside these walls i do what i like. i'm responsible for the music filling these rooms, the meals made in the kitchen and the sleep i may or may not get in my bed. i forget my age at times. i forget all the things i've done to get me where i am today. i do remember, however, the simple wish most kids have when they're stuck living at home with their parents: i just want my own place. i want to be the boss of me.

work schmurk

i really don't want to go in today. i just don't. i'm not into it and there's nothing i can do about it. i'd rather sit on my couch or lay in my bed all day today than go in and deal with angry animals and testy doctors. it seems that's all i do all day. i tiptoe around doctors and coworkers that are in bad moods and i get bit and scratched by pissed off kitties and dogs. i get peed on, puked on, shit on, and come home covered in fur. i feel i owe my own pets an explanation...like they think i've been cheating on them; spending time with other animals. i've watched reality shows set in clinics and i always thought a show like that would never work at my clinic. the entire show would end up being a bunch of moaners complaining about their wage versus their workload. i really feel i work in a field (or maybe just a hospital) that doesn't understand how crucial my role is. i work so hard but don't get compensated nearly enough. the place wouldn't run if it weren't for employees in my position.
i feel like i'm getting nowhere.

words

i was sitting on my couch tonight with scott watching "the blacklist" on hbo. it was something i was looking forward to watching and i'm glad i had the chance. dinner was over, so we were able to give it our full attention (well, almost full attention - jackie and arthur needed love, after all). in the interviews, one of my favorite words was spoken : dissent. it's such a powerful word. it's a very matter-of-fact word. even the very sound it makes when coming out of your mouth has an effect. i should make note of my favorite words. maybe that way i'd be prepared if i ever ran into james lipton.

first timer

i have never done this before; had a blog. to be honest, i have been known to be at least a little resistant to technology. i wouldn't go so far as to say i'm afraid of it...just hesitant. i have kept written journals in the past, but i now see the blog as a modern-day diary. it can be as arbitrary or as personal as i want. so this is me: arbitrary and personal. i usually have a lot of thoughts swimming around in my head and i'm hoping this format will allow some of these thoughts to slow down and come out of the water. i called this blog hold very still for a reason. i've watched our culture pick up speed. we move so quickly. we miss so much. we are all too busy looking ahead that we forget to notice what is surrounding us.
so, i'll use this blog to talk about whatever is going on in my life and in my head. who knows if it will ever be read and frankly i don't care one way or the other. i am going to continue to write and maybe someday i'll find my stride.