Category Archives: Food for thought

On Cooking Indian Food

Posted on by LeAnne Notabartolo

I LOVE every Asian cuisine I have ever tried. Korean is my least favorite so far, but I still love it. Right now I am obsessed with Indian food.

I recently discovered (through a food diary and observation) that I have a sensitivity to wheat. I don’t have celiac and I am not gluten intolerant, but when I overdo it on wheat…let’s just say I am not fit for company. To that end I have been reading up on substitutions (most of the bread SUCKS BTW and so do most of the pastas) and I have found that Indian food, other than naan, uses almost no wheat at all!  They use chickpea flour (gram or besan flour in the store) for their coatings, thickeners and batters.  Whoop!

Many of the techniques are familiar, but the seasonings and spices are confounding to me. It’s not just that I have never used them before, because big fucking deal about that part. It’s that I don’t know how they taste TOGETHER. I know when I put oregano and basil into a dish what it is going to taste like, but I have no idea what anardana or amchoor or fenugreek are going to do to a dish. Some of the seasonings are familiar like cilantro, coriander, fennel and cumin, but still not knowing the properties of the unfamiliar seasonings and spices, I am afraid of screwing the dish up. At this point I am following the recipes found online to the letter. No substitutions, no omissions and I measure everything. So far so good.

I would love to get to the point where using these unfamiliar spices is as easy to me as cooking Italian. Each time I find a new recipe or cuisine that intrigues me, I end up adding to my already impressive spice cabinet (pictured above), and I end up cleaning and refreshing my spice cabinet. A few words on spices while I have your attention: buy WHOLE spices when you can. Grinding spices releases oils that can go rancid. Whole spices stay fresh much longer. Ground spices should be replaced every 6 months or so. Shopping Tip: go to your local ethnic market for the best prices and freshest ingredients. They have a much higher turnover and you’ll get a better product. I can promise you star anise at the Asian market will be less than half the price you’d pay at Whole Foods. I just paid $2.99 for a handful of whole nutmeg seeds at Gopal’s India Market and I KNOW I paid $5.99 for 4 nutmeg seeds in a jar at Whole Foods.

So tonight, in keeping with my current Indian obsession, because it’s St. Patrick’s Day, I made this because it’s green. None of us liked it. No one in my family enjoys corned beef and cabbage so I was looking for a green alternative. It’s green. I should have made a spinach soufflé.  Of course I made Irish Soda Bread, complete with caraway (Moment of Truth – I am not a fan of caraway. In fact I won’t even eat seeded rye bread, but I require it in Irish Soda Bread) and I can’t wait to slather on some butter and dig in.

I make my Irish Soda Bread in a cast iron skillet to get the crispy edges that my family loves.

I make my Irish Soda Bread in a cast iron skillet to get the crispy edges that my family loves.

And before you ask me, one day when the family who gave me the recipe okays it, I will share Mrs. Gartland’s Irish Soda Bread recipe – it really is the best one.

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Thanks for reading!

Guilty Pleasure #3 – McCall Humes Shares a Recipe

Posted on by LeAnne Notabartolo

McCall Humes is a fellow blogger and lives right here in Fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada. Her blog McCall of the Wild is always a fun read. In addition to being a blogger, she is also “Pinterest Influencer” – yes, it’s a real job! Check out her Pinterest – tons of cool stuff there! I asked her to share her Guilty Pleasure. She dishes and shares a family recipe below.  All photos are hers with many thanks.

When LeAnne asked me to write a guest post about guilty pleasures, my first instinct was to get drunk on whiskey and ramble on about my deep love of Jameson. But as I visualized how the post might go, it seemed quite probable it could become something I felt great about until the light of the next day. I became fearful that the post could end up like whenever Jameson and I join forces in karaoke night. At the time, he convinces me that my impromptu adaptation of “Papa Don’t Preach” was next-level brilliant, but then a Facebook video inevitably proves otherwise.  As this is my first introduction to you, I suppose it is inappropriate to suggest that you could just join me in doing shots so as to ensure that you appreciate what I have to offer. But, for the record, that is usually the case at the karaoke bar. Instead, I will leave my idea for an ode to whiskey here and move on to my next post idea: my love of food.

I’m not gonna lie. It’s difficult to narrow this down. I mean, pretty much all food brings me pleasure and most of what I eat isn’t what those in the know would call ‘healthy.’ A lot of you might consider a late night Taco Bell run a guilty pleasure. I just call it Tuesday’s dinner. I guess it’s easier for me to narrow it down by focusing on the word “guilty” rather than “pleasure.”

It’s probably a commentary on my youth that when I think of the word “guilty,” the next thing that comes to mind is “sneaky.” Rather than dwelling on why that is, I’m just gonna jump over it and admit that I am currently completely guilty of sneaking Nutella into my house. Somewhere here in the house (I can’t say where or I’d have to kill you) there is a jar of Nutella that no one but me knows exists. Mind you, it is not hidden because I fear the opinions of my family members about my eating that shit straight from the jar. No. This is strictly because Momma doesn’t want to share.

A blog post about how often I smuggle spoonfuls of Nutella seems a little anti-climactic.  So I have decided that, as a tribute to this hidden gem of happiness, I will share with ya’ll the recipe that started my love affair with desserts that combine chocolate and nuts: My mom’s peanut butter bars.

I’ve never shared a recipe before so if it’s challenging to follow, I ask that you forgive Jameson. His heart is in the right place.

Momma McCall’s Mom’s Peanut Butter Bars

Momma McCall's Peanut Butter Bars

¼ cup peanut butter

½ cup shortening

½ cup brown sugar

½ cup sugar

1 egg

½ tsp vanilla

1 cup flour

1 cup oatmeal

1 tsp salt

½ tsp baking soda

¼ cup milk

Ingredients

Preheat oven to 350

Combine dry ingredients and set aside.

Cream together shortening, peanut butter and sugars until fluffy.  Add egg and vanilla and mix until well combined. Add dry mixture and milk to egg mixture, alternating until well combined.

Scoop the mixture into a 9 x 13 casserole dish and create an even layer (Or use a 9 x 9 to make a thicker bar. Be sure to adjust bake time.). Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes. When the bars are fully cooked they will be golden brown. A toothpick stuck through the middle of them should come out clean.

While the bars are cooking, mix together the frosting using:

Frosting

2 cups powdered sugar

¼ c cocoa powder

3 Tbsp butter

½ tsp vanilla

2-3 Tbsp water (use only enough to make the mixture moist, not runny.)

While they are still warm, spread the frosting evenly across the top. The heat of the bars will melt the frosting making it easy to spread.

Let cool and enjoy!

I hope that y’all enjoy these yummy Peanut Butter Bars as much as I do. Just be careful. This is a proven gateway snack. If you aren’t careful, you too could wind up hiding jars of Nutella around your house.

Cheers!

Division of Assets

Pet Peeves 2015

Posted on by LeAnne Notabartolo

Before we get into the meat of this – THANK YOU! It has been nearly 4 years since I began this blog, a passion project really, and I appreciate each and every click, like and share. If you are subscribed to this blog thank you twice! My goal this year is to double my readership, so if you love this, share it! If you hate it, share it twice <snicker>. And of course, follow along on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter for more bites.

I have been crabby and restless lately and it makes me want to write about being crabby and restless. The thing is when I am crabby my pet peeves come to the forefront and as I thought about it, I realized I hadn’t shared with all of you in a while the things that make my head explode. So here’s this year’s list. If I have shared any of them before it’s because they STILL piss me off. Be warned this post will be riddled with foul language.

  • Gentlemen – remove your fucking hat at the damn table unless it is a yarmulke. Few things annoy me more than seeing grown ass men wearing baseball caps, cowboy hats or the hipster trilby and fedora at the table. And while we are on the subject of hats, baseball hats are meant to keep the sun out of your eyes, if you are going to wear one, put the fucking bill in the FRONT where it belongs.
  • Ladies – wear shoes that are your size. No one wants to see you slip slopping out of your too high heels and busting your ass. Additionally I don’t want to see your heels and or toes hanging over the edges of your shoes. I REALLY can’t stand it when a celebrity on the red carpet has toes hanging out of her shoes. Fire your damn stylist woman because she isn’t doing her job.
  • I have been reading a LOT of other work online lately and all I can say is WOW! I know many bloggers write because it is their passion. A few write to placate their own egos and others because they have info of value to share. TIP: Use the spellchecker for Christ’s sake! It’s free! I have seen so many grammatical, spelling and punctuation fuck ups this week that my eyes were bleeding. I read one piece that had so many mistakes I had to stop reading and it was on a NEWS SOURCE. That asshat was PAID to write and it was a disaster. (If you find mistakes in here, post in the comments so I can fix them! I try really hard to keep my shit in line.)
  • While we are on the subject, use real words. I once read a blog post and the writer wrote at the completion of a recipe, and I shit you not, “Wala! It’s done!” Wala?  What the actual fuck is Wala? Did they mean voila? I write “sandWISH”. I hope the capitalization is a clue to everyone reading it that it is a chuckle worthy word and one of my own making, like Rachel Ray’s “sammies”. I usually will put an asterisk with a footnote for first time readers to clue them in.
  • If you don’t want the truth, don’t ask for it. I have been called brutally honest and I consider that a compliment. If you ask me for my opinion and I say, “Do you want the truth, or do you want me to tell you what you want to hear?” chances are you aren’t going to be happy with me when I am done speaking.
  • I despise bars where I can’t smoke (don’t judge me). If I can’t light up with my beer, I am going to be irritated. THIS peeve is my biggest problem with the states of California and Washington.
  • And while we are on the subject, if I am allowed to smoke, empty my goddamn ash tray. AND bring it back. I recently had a cocktail waitress at a casino bar who took my ashtray when I asked for it be emptied (Moment of Truth – I should never have to ask for my water glass to be filled or my ashtray to be emptied) and then she was gone for 15 minutes. Where the hell was I s’posed to put my butts? On the carpet?
  • On the topic of bars, it aggravates me when there are no purse hooks under the bar. It’s almost as if they don’t want women to sit there. NO, I don’t want to hang my purse on the back of my chair where it might fall, get knocked off or get stolen (yes that happens). It’s even more aggravating when I am sitting on a true bar STOOL and there is no back to my seat.
  • And finally, I have a real problem with people who talk shit about others behind their backs. Be courageous. Do the right thing. Don’t say anything behind someone’s back that you wouldn’t say to their face if asked. Trust me, you’ll feel better.

Guilty Pleasures #2 – Guest Blogger Rev Kane of Ministry of Happiness

Posted on by LeAnne Notabartolo

I have known Rev. Kane for a LONG time…let’s not talk about how many  years. When asked to guest blog for me, he jumped right on it, even though he is in the final stages of preparation for hiking the Appalachian Trail. What a guy! Keep up with him and his adventures by following his blog Ministry of Happiness. All of the NON-food pics were taken by Rev. Kane. He is a much better photographer than I am!

When the queen calls you answer and I’m honored to be guest blogging at Good for Spooning, a little different fare than my normal posts at the Ministry of Happiness, but not so far off the map as guilty pleasures are inherently things, that at least in the short-term, make you happy.

Given that LeAnne has decided these posts should center around Lent, I figured as a recovering Catholic that I would address my favorite part of Lent, Mardi Gras.  I love New Orleans and more pointedly I love Mardis Gras.  For me, it has everything to do with parades.  You see I never got the whole parade thing, not even as a child.  Parades in my hometown were quite frankly pretty lame, but even the Rose Bowl and Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parades bored me to tears.

So the first time I made it to Mardis Gras, I was not excited about the idea of a Mardis Gras parade but what the hell, I walked up St. Charles into the neighborhoods and got ready for the parade.  Soon, as will happen during Mardis Gras, I had made a whole slew of new friends, particularly once they found out I was on my own.  Drinks, snacks, hot Po Boy Sandwiches were quickly dispatched to me, hell one guy and his partner even invited me to join them on their krewe’s float the next night.  Now, they pay thousands of dollars for that honor and I passed, they were sure once I was costumed no one would care, I wasn’t so sure.

Bacchus? Pan? Generic Satyr? Part of one of the Mardi Gras Floats

Bacchus? Pan? Generic Satyr? Part of one of the Mardi Gras Floats

Then the parade started and it was gleeful madness, the floats were amazing, funny, political, ridiculous depending on the krewe running the parade.  Beads, coins and much nicer gifts flew from the floats, gleeful madness transitioned to joyful chaos, it is impossible not to get thoroughly caught up in the action.  Wonderful people, food, drink and madness, THIS is what I always thought Mardi Gras was always about.  Unfortunately so many people think Mardi Gras is bourbon street, flashing boobs and drunken crowds, it’s not, for me it’s all about the parades.

So in many ways New Orleans is one giant guilty pleasure for me but given I have issues with my blood sugar, I’ll focus on those specific guilty pleasures my doctor might actually beat me for indulging in while I’m there.  Let’s start with the worst offence, the beignet.  I grew up in an Italian family and fried dough with powdered sugar was a huge treat the morning after homemade pizza.  Café Du Monde, cliché, sure but the beignet’s and the people watching are just magnificent.

The original Cafe Du Monde

The original Cafe Du Monde

beignet

As someone who cuts carbs I don’t eat a lot of rice, but great news, the rice in jambalaya is carb free!  Right, but now do I stop eating bowls of full of crawfish, shrimp, sausage, and chicken, sure there’s more grams of carbs in a bowl than I normally eat in a week but it’s soooo damn good!  It’s ok, you can always go to the church on Jackson Square [St. Louis Cathedral] and confess your food sins.

St. Louis Cathedral - Jackson Square

St. Louis Cathedral – Jackson Square

The one saving grace about New Orleans guilty pleasures is that the city and especially the French Quarter is a marvelous place just to walk.  As someone who does a bit of photography I love the cemeteries in the city and so you get to burn off all of those lovely carbs with really long walks, but you should always bring a box of pralines with you in case of food emergencies, or to just immerse yourself in a wave of crunchy, sweet goodness.

NOLA Cemetery

Pralines

Now my final guilty pleasure provided by the Crescent City is a double pleasure, first it’s so delicious and secondly I usually bring it with me on the plane ride home and fill the cabin with its smell.  Given how little they feed us on planes these days I’m surprised I haven’t been beaten within an inch of my life.  But my leaving New Orleans tradition has become a full muffuletta from Central Grocery.  For the uninitiated a muffuletta is a 10 inch diameter sandwich filled with layers of marinated olive salad, mortadella, salami, mozzarella, ham, and provolone.

From the TheThrillist.com’s article on the 5 best muffulettas in New Orleans:

You can’t reasonably discuss muffulettas (or at least discuss muffulettas with as much reason as such a discussion might allow) without paying consideration to the original. Invented here in the early 20th century to feed hungry Sicilian farmers selling their wares in the French Market, CG’s muffs can be ordered by quarter, half, or whole, but be warned: the sandwich is approximately the size of a tractor tire. And be prepared to wait in line. It’s worth it.

Muffuletta

So, I know it’s just passed us by, but happy Mardi Gras, happy Lent, and have a happy day my friends ~ Rev Kane

Guilty Pleasures with Guest Blogger Jack Notabartolo

Posted on by LeAnne Notabartolo

In an effort to keep you entertained and keep myself sane, I have asked a few folks to write FOR this blog instead of me. Sister Nancy did it a while back and now I am going to have a series of folks share their guilty pleasures through the Lenten Season. First up my one and only son Jack! He’s a junior at Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, Arizona.  Enjoy!

I am not the usual writer of this blog. My name is Jack Notabartolo, and I have several unhealthy food addictions. These are the foodstuffs that I positively adore, but I kick myself every time I eat them. Needless to say, they are quite a pain, considering that I am trying to lose a bit of weight.

You probably have a few as well, those little voices that call out to you as you’re driving down the highway, the inexplicably delicious fast food places that whisper to your taste buds “Eat me” as you’re driving by. But I’d like to devote this little bit of time to talk about the guilty pleasure foods that (mostly) aren’t from Jack in the Box or Taco Bell.

One that shouldn’t come as any sort of surprise to anyone is candy. Everyone loves candy, save for diabetics and crazy people, but there is one that just calls to me above all others.

Charleston Chews.  And I’m not talking about the big, mondo-sized bars that you could probably use to beat a small child to death, I’m talking about the Charleston Chew Minis.

Charleston ChewsWhen we lived in Texas, my mother and I would often go to the movies, and considering how expensive the… everything was at the theaters, the old one and I would go on a “Walgreens run” and sneak our own confectionaries into the theater in her oversized purse. It became a ritual for us. Weekend came, we would sneak in our treats, and feast while we watched movies that we decided on diplomatically. And “diplomatically” in our house meant “with a lot of cross-talk and unnecessary argument”. Either way, it was a great time for us, and one that I’m sorry has faded away. Still, whenever I’m in a pharmacy, I have to actively avoid the candy aisle otherwise I buy a box or five.

Another guilty pleasure of mine (that breaks me almost every goddamn time I go near) is Roberto’s Tacos. Fortunately, I don’t swing by the nearest Roberto’s that often, only when I’m getting an oil change. But when I do…

Carne Asada fries

Carne asada fries. They break me without fail. Even though I know they’re so horrendously bad for me, I order them whenever I swing by the Fabulous Freddy’s right down the street for car maintenance or a wash. This time, I came home with not only the fries, but their machaca breakfast burritos for my mother and me as well. I can feel them going to my thighs already.

Finally, there’s the coup de grace. The evil overlord of all food. The devil at the crossroads. The Don Vito Corleone, making me an offer I simply can’t refuse. Jack in the Box’s Bacon Ultimate Cheeseburger, hold the mayo, with curly fries and a shake. This has been the go-to for my mother and I whenever we have an hour or two to kill during the lunch hour and nothing with a higher taste-to-healthiness ratio (not that hard, despite the tastiness of the burger). She’ll send me down the street to snag a couple of burgers and some greasy-ass fries when she’s at her nail appointment and can’t possibly get away on her own. I always feel bad because I get the bacon and shake, and she doesn’t.

But that’s the point of a guilty pleasure, isn’t it? It’s something that we eat, that makes us feel horrible about ourselves, that we don’t even care about until after it’s gone, until it’s out of our hands, beyond our control and stuck in our stomachs. I suppose it’s reasonable to enjoy our guilty pleasures every now and then, though. Because it’s just food. Food that is meant to be eaten, despite the fact that it is probably horrible to us despite our best interests. I will refrain from using “YOLO” in this situation, but the message still applies. Life is far too short to not eat your guilty pleasure food.

What’s your guilty pleasure?

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Lazy Food CAN be Good Food

Posted on by LeAnne Notabartolo

With Valentine’s Day fast approaching, I find myself visiting the grocery store for inspiration on what to eat and cook now. Like you I get bored eating the same things ALL THE TIME. (Moment of Truth – I sometimes go to the store, in off peak hours, and just look around. No, I am not kidding.)

As I wander through the produce section of the grocery stores I notice more and more precut fruits and veggies, premade salads in addition to the washed-for-you lettuces, and yogurt parfaits with granola and fruit. In Costco you can get a supersized bag of pre-sliced apples, portioned out in small bags (presumably for lunches) and pre-made fruit trays for parties. This is fresh food folks, not the canned fruit cocktail cups of my child’s youth. I thought to myself, How fucking lazy do you have to be to buy not only washed lettuce (guilty here!), but cut up fruits and veggies? So I started thinking…I know, dangerous…

I can see the logic of having products like these in truck stops and 7-11 type stores. Family road trippers and people who travel by road for work, like my Dad and friend Jim, would have healthier things to choose from when on the road. But in your local grocer’s produce section? What is the shelf life? What are they treated with? How many people handled the raw product? Again, How fucking lazy are you? (FYI – all of MY pics were taken at a local Smith’s store – but don’t tell anyone, they “usually don’t allow pictures” I was told).

An entire wall of precut fruit Dippers w/ Caramel PreSliced Apples

Then it hit me. People are lazy. They WANT to make healthier choices, but don’t want to do the prep work.

Then I got hit again. I don’t like to eat an apple whole. Don’t ask why, I don’t know; but if you cut it up for me, I will snack on the slices all day long.

So there you have it. The lazy and the stupid are the people these are marketed toward. I am in the latter category, mainly because I don’t know why I dislike eating apples on the core.

Here is some info to think about:

  • Once fruit or veggies are cut, they MUST be refrigerated, but many can be stored at room temp in their whole state for a much longer time
  • Many are treated with citric acid, a chemical to prevent the cut fruit from browning
  • The salads taste pretty good and the ones from Taylor Farms come with just enough dressing to coat it and not drown it

  • Photo Courtesy of the Taylor Farms Website

    Photo Courtesy of the Taylor Farms Website

  • These versions cost more than double what the whole versions cost, but if it helps you CHOOSE fruits and veggies instead of chips, GO FOR IT!

So here is my charge to you: Eat more fruit! I have been taking 10 minutes every couple of days to core and slice a bunch of apples and pop them in the fridge to snack on whenever I have a sweet tooth, which is quite often lately.

Here’s the skinny:

  • Squeeze a half a lemon into 6 cups of water. This is just enough to prevent browning without making the fruit taste bitter or like lemon
  • Use an apple wedger to core and cut the fruit into wedges if you like it chunky or slice it thin like I do
  • Dunk the cut pieces in the acidulated water, making sure that all the cut surfaces have been exposed to the water. I let them sit there until the bowl is full.
  • Take them out and pat them dry on a clean towel
  • Store in an airtight container in the fridge on a shelf where you can see them, not in the produce drawer, and watch how fast they disappear
  • This works for pears too as long as they are not ultra-ripe.

So let’s get back to Valentine’s Day. For those of you who are new readers to my blog, I call Valentine’s Day “amateur night” and absolutely refuse to go out to eat on that night. I go ALL OUT here at home and make something I have never made before that is luxurious, expensive and completely decadent. The problem is I have been doing this for so many years that I am running out of ideas. If you have a thought on what I should be cooking, share it in the comments section. And share this blog so more people can have some input. I am getting desperate here – we’re 10 days out!

The Art & Science of RSVPing

Posted on by RedFlair14

As I write I am watching and listening to the gentle waves in the Sea of Cortez in gorgeous San Jose del Cabo. It is LeAnneuary and the celebrations for my 50th year on the planet continue.  With luck, I will have much more to share with you soon about this trip. So far all I can say is that the food is mediocre, the hotel and staff fabulous and the weather is perfect.  And so…

I rarely write about my JOB because I know you really like reading about food, recipes and events, but I feel with the New Year there is a need for everyone to make a resolution to RSVP. For whatever reason people these days feel it is unnecessary. Do you think you are special? Do you think the host, event planner or event coordinator can read your mind? Do you think because the invite was sent digitally you have no real requirement to respond?  Yeah…um…ok- NO! YOU ALWAYS should RSVP. Here are some REAL scenarios for you to consider:

  • We attended a wedding in San Antonio several years ago and noticed that there were two complete tables of 10 (20 people total) that were empty. I thought to myself, “The house over set the room.” Then I went outside to have a cigarette (don’t judge) and saw more than 20 place cards that had not been picked up by “attendees”. These people RSVPed and didn’t show. Bad form! The Bride and Groom paid for those no-shows – more than $1000. How would you feel if you were the newlyweds?
  • I helped organize a retirement party for a military friend. It was a tight room (i.e. filled to capacity). A couple walked in that were NOT on the RSVP list and expected to be seated. There was absolutely no where to put them. How would you feel if you were me, the “guests”, restaurant staff or the host?
  • And then there is THIS – gone a trifle too far if you ask me.

Invited Guests, here is the low down, fast, hard and dirty – If you are invited to anything, and I do mean ANYTHING, regardless of how you get the invite (FB, Email, printed engraved invitation delivered by a courier pigeon) you RSVP. One way or the other. Your host enjoys your company enough that your presence is desired. If you can’t make it, send your polite regrets. If you can make it, show up with a smile on your face and enjoy the festivities. If you RSVP that you are attending and for some reason at the last minute can’t make it, a brief polite communique with the host is in order (emergencies – and by emergency I mean death, dismemberment, contagious illness – are of course exempt, and a quick call to the host following the event is always appreciated). Remember your host has planned for food, drinks and potentially entertainment for you. If you are one of the lovely people who ALWAYS RSVPs and shows up when invited and for some reason you don’t make it, your host may in fact be worried about you for out of character behavior.

The act of taking 3 minutes to RSVP is a GIFT to your host. Consider the host or event planner organizing a party for 100 and only 50 RSVP, should the host GUESS whether you are attending if you don’t RSVP? Should they count on your charming presence and pay for you to  be a no-show? Should they NOT count on you and have you show up with no place to be seated or run out of food/drinks?

Gracious Hosts – the sad fact is that you are in an untenable position. I am sure you have friends who say, “You know I am coming, do I need to RSVP?” And I am sure there are a few in every crowd, but don’t count on anyone. For 16 years I worked in direct sales doing home cooking demos teaching recipes and selling cookware, and for each and every event I had to encourage the host of the show to call and remind each guest (up to 40 people) about the date and time because people forget they RSVPed or the simply didn’t think they had to do so.

Here is my Moment of Truth – I have a Three Strikes Policy. If you are invited and respond NO three times, respond YES three times and not show or simply NOT RSVP at all, you are not invited back (yes, there are noted exceptions).

And one final thought – if you are invited to someone’s home for an event, don’t show up empty handed unless “NO GIFTS PLEASE” is on the invitation. Wine, flowers, quirky coasters, chocolates, anything you think the host will enjoy is ALWAYS appreciated by the host. Exceptions? Your best friend’s home where you are as likely to be as your own home.

LIFE is a Special Occasion

Posted on by LeAnne Notabartolo

It started Monday with a cup of tea. I had finished the box of tea I was working on and decided to “treat myself” to more expensive tea that I normally save for “special occasions” or company. At the first sip I remembered how much I enjoy PG Tips tea. PG Tips is not terribly expensive, it is only slightly more than my usual cup. So why the hell was I saving it?

Then I started thinking about other things.  Those fancy sugar cubes that aren’t really cubes at all? Why are they still hermetically sealed in the boxes in which they came? That really nice jam? How about those gorgeous olives, spreads and pates? All this fantastic shelf stable food that I store in my pantry…what the hell am I waiting for? MY LIFE is a special occasion dammit! MY FAMILY members are “company”. Each of us deserves to celebrate every fucking day. And so do you.

Why am I reflecting on this now? Is it because of the impending New Year? NOPE! Tomorrow begins my 50th year on this planet. I celebrate the half century mark on LeAnneuary 8th and I celebrate all month long (thanks Friend Deb for encouraging this behavior!).  I have decided to take it one step further inspired by new Friend and fellow blogger McCall Humes (read her blog HERE). I have decided to celebrate the entire year by doing something I have never tried before once each month.

As I thought about this, and shared the idea with Hubby, it occurred to me that this is going to be a tall order! I have done A LOT in my 49 years. So here is the goal: visit someplace new, eat something I haven’t tried before, attempt that recipe that has confounded me, experience something for the first time and stretch my comfort zone.

I would love to have you all comment with suggestions of what I should taste, do, try, attempt! Here are some of things I have already done:

    • Skydiving

  • Snorkeling
  • Zip-lining

    Ziplining in Mexico

    Ziplining in Mexico

  • Rappelling

    Rappelling down a waterfall in Mexico

    Rappelling down a waterfall in Mexico

  • Lived in Europe
  • Culinary school
  • Shaved my head
  • Been on TV
  • Been on the Radio
  • Eaten offal and ALMOST every part of most animals
  • Eaten insects
  • Ridden a horse AND a donkey

My first new thing will be running a 5K for the first time. This will be on LeAnneuary 17th here in Vegas as a fundraiser for Chefs for Kids. I will participate, but my goal is to run the entire thing. I won’t be fast, I won’t win and I don’t care. I simply want to be able to say “I DID IT!” Keep warm thoughts in your head for that day, I don’t do well in the cold.

Happiest of New Years to all of you! Thank you for following along with me. (Moment of Truth – I LOVE it when you SHARE my blog, SUBSCRIBE using the simple fill in the blank on the right of your screen and COMMENT on this site). You can also follow along on FB, Twitter and Instagram.

Aunt LeAnne Goes to a Tamaleada

Posted on by LeAnne Notabartolo

I wrote and THOUGHT I posted this yesterday, but apparently I never hit “publish”.  Merry Christmas! Never miss an episode when you subscribe by adding your email address on the right!  And follow along on FB, Twitter and Instagram – all @GoodforSpooning

Tamaleada – (ta MAL ā AH da) noun, Spanish

  1. a Latino tradition of gathering together as a family to create tamales for Christmas. Usually done on Christmas Eve, but can be done any time during the holiday season.
  2. a tamal making party. Typically Mexican, but also found in other Latin cultures.

Having lived in the desert southwest for more than 10 years, and being surrounded by a strong Mexican/Latino population, I have always wanted to learn the art of making tamales. Being a gringa (white girl) I was never asked because the tamaleada is a FAMILY thing.  Traditionally the Abuela (grandmother) is in charge and she dictates what is done, by whom and when. Most of the hands-on work is done by the women (what else is new – hahaha, JK) and the men are only brought in as tasters. Does this need more salt? Is this texture right? Is it too spicy?

Gilbert (center) acting as Abuelo telling everyone what their tasks will be. Friend Sunshine and Gilbert's partner David look on.

Gilbert (center) acting as Abuelo telling everyone what their tasks will be. Friend Sunshine and Gilbert’s partner David look on.

Being a military family we have had the need and pleasure of creating our own holiday traditions. Sometimes we were invited to other people’s homes, mainly because they felt sorry for us, “Oh, let’s invite that military family so they aren’t alone.” We never really felt connected to our hosts or like we were part of “The Crowd”. Living in Vegas is no different. Most of the people I know are transplants from somewhere else, so their family may not be in the area to hold or attend the annual tamelada (like Friend Gilbert). Or maybe because they lived here for so long without family they never did it (like Friend Lillian).

This is what usually happens:

  • Everyone gathers together to do the prep work
  • Everything is made from scratch – NO SHORTCUTS
  • Kids are encouraged to get involved and are given specific tasks suited for their age and skill level
  • Each person has the same job every year until someone dies (TRUTH) and they move up into the next position
  • It’s a typical “hen party” with conversations ranging from funny stories of past holidays, to what everyone is doing now, to how the kids are and shared traditional music, familial jokes and much laughter and smiles. (Gilbert told us a GREAT story of the older women keeping the younger women in line at his family’s event in years past – we were all howling with laughter.)

When I walked into Gilbert & David’s home on Sunday my only expectation of the day was that I would go home with a new skill and hopefully some new cultural knowledge and awareness. I knew Lillian would be there, but nothing else. I had no concept of what my role would be. I knew nothing about tamales except that they are delicious. I got so much more than I bargained for! I got LOVE! According to Gilbert, and I quote, “Tamales are love”. I knew most of the people at the table socially, except for Amber and Laura. By the time I left, after helping to make a few hundred (it seems – I didn’t count) tamales, I felt connected to each of them in a very special way. I know that a tamaleada is a FAMILY thing and I was honored to be included in the chosen family surrounding that table. I felt needed, a part of a generations old tradition, and like I belonged. Not an outlier with no roots. We started with handshakes all around and ended up hugging like long lost relatives.

The makings of tamales - and the meat isn't even on the table yet

The makings of tamales – and the meat isn’t even on the table yet

Efforts from the Tamaleada

Efforts from the Tamaleada, and yes, they are tied with little strips of corn husk.

Just 2 of the several pans we filled

Just 2 of the several pans we filled

The funniest part of the day? Everyone was delighted that there was something that I couldn’t do. (Moment of Truth – that first tamal took me FOREVER. I couldn’t get the masa to spread evenly and it kept sticking to the spoon instead of the corn husk and pulling holes in the thin layer I was trying in vain to create. Once I changed tools and started using a silicone spatula it all went rather smoothly!)

Enjoy the pics – I SHOULD have had someone take my pic making a tamal so you know I actually did it, but trust me, I did!

The finished product - this one with chicken and tomatillo green chile sauce.

The finished product – this one with chicken and tomatillo green chile sauce.

 

You Can’t Go Home Again

Posted on by LeAnne Notabartolo

Recently, as you know if you follow along on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram, I was traveling. When I return to a city where I have found great grub, I feel it is a moral imperative that I revisit those dining locales to relive the good times had there.  Sadly, sometimes the memory is better than reality.

In San Antonio for a wedding (more on that soon) I found myself itching to go to Pappadeaux.  I have had so many great meals there that I went by myself and sat at the bar to enjoy a fantastic lunch. I ordered a local IPA, Crawfish Bisque, and a Seafood Cobb Salad.  I SHOULD have quit after the soup. When I order a SEAFOOD Cobb Salad, I expect the SEAFOOD to be a starring attraction. Sadly this was not the case. There were four pathetic shrimp and two ounces of crab (two ounces if I am being generous). There was however plenty of bacon and egg.  Oddest of all, there were big slices (think lengthwise on a mandoline) of cucumber and “julienned” carrots that were the size of carrot sticks mixed into the greens. Did I just order the wrong thing? Has corporate dining ruined one of my fave chains (and make no mistake, it IS a chain, even if they aren’t nationwide)? Have my expectations changed?  Any or all of these questions can be answered with a YES and be correct.

Crawfish Bisque

Crawfish Bisque

 

On a bright note, my car seemingly on auto-pilot, found the 410 Diner on Broadway in San Antonio and it was EXACTLY as I remembered. Not fancy, but great value for good diner food.

Then it was off to Nassau, The Bahamas.  We three sisters and our spouses took Mom on a cruise to celebrate her 70th Birthday.  All in all a good time was had (barring a tweaked twerk muscle, a pulled hamstring and a thrown out back, and no, I am NOT among the walking wounded). Because we are SO rarely all together (I live in Vegas, everyone else is in FL) any time together is special. I didn’t choose the ship, the itinerary or the port we sailed from, but when I realized Nassau was on the route I was excited.

Several years ago when John and I cruised through the Bahamas, we went in search of authentic Bahamian conch dishes and we found them at Twin Brothers. When we walked in, we were the ONLY tourists in the building, just my style! The conch fritters were crisp and golden on the outside and light as air inside studded with amazing chunks of conch. The conch chowder was fragrant, spicy on the back end and again studded with conch. And don’t even get me started on the mystical wings. Those wings were slightly flavored with coconut and dusted with seasonings after frying so they were both sweet and spicy. And the spice built as you ate wing after wing. I dreamed of them for years and tried to recreate them in my kitchen with little success. Let’s just say those wings are a thing of the past, but the conch dishes were just as good as I remembered. The biggest let down for me is that Trip Advisor (very much like Yelp! for travelers as far as I am concerned) found Twin Brothers, with a proud declaration in the window. There were no locals left, we were surrounded by tourists. While the chowder and fritters were excellent, the wings were bland with no mystique to them and I was surrounded not by the good people of the island with their beautiful lilting speech, but by the very people I was seeking escape from by walking into town. I am happy for THEM and unhappy for me, because one of my fave places is now off limits to me.

Conch Fritters

Conch Fritters

I have to wonder if my recollections are in some fashion flawed or if you really can’t go home again. Am I guilty of memories being better than reality or have things changed THAT much?

Next up? More on Texas, a Hill Country wedding and time spent with friends in bars in Texas.

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