This is the second in a series of posts about our recent trip to Italy. There was so much awesome food and so many amazing experiences that I couldn’t fit it all into one without you all losing interest.
I’ll Never Look at a SandWISH* the Same Way Again!
We just returned from two weeks in Italy and to say that I ate my weight in carbs would be an understatement! Between the bread (not all of it good), the pizza, the sandWISHes, and the pasta, not to mention the local craft beers, I was in Carb-a-Palooza.
I’ve always loved a sandWISH*. From chicken salad to cold cuts to meatball subs, and so forth. Our recent trip to Italy has forever changed the way I will look at them. It’s basically about the bread! Instead of a roll, or a wrap, or basic sliced bread, each sandWISH we ate was served on split focaccia. Why did I never think of that? It’s not like I hadn’t had it before. In fact, I ate focaccia sandWISHes at by Ismael Romano inside Ellis Island Casino, but for some reason the concept resonated more for me in Italy…go figure!
Influencers Have NO Influence on Me
Like all good foodies, in preparation for the trip, we researched the amazing offerings in the cities and towns we planned to visit. Of course, All’Antico Vinaio popped up because so many “influencers” (UGH) had videos and pics on their socials. But, unlike many good foodies, we DO NOT take “influencers” seriously. So, we talked to bartenders, servers, other bar patrons and ALL of them said, without exception, to skip All’Antico and go for ANY other ‘WISH shop. The locals informed us that nearly any locally owned joint would have a ‘WISH as good as, or better than, All’Antico and we wouldn’t have to wait in line for more than 30 minutes to be fed. (If you know me at all, you know I don’t like waiting in line for food…or anything else really).
Focaccia Makes the World Go ‘Round
Around the corner from our rented apartment, we found a fabulous little place – I’Girone de Ghiotti. The porchetta was out of this world and the mortadella with pistachio pesto was insanely good. But, not only were the fillings amazing, the focaccia they were served on was incredible. Light airy pockets in the crumb and a crisp, but sturdy crust to hold all the goodness. In fact, both of our sandWISHes were so good that we went back a second time when we returned to Florence. We also had good versions at the Marketo Centrale at Massimiliano Parri’s stall with fantastic prosciutto and marinated artichoke hearts. And again, the focaccia was amazing. Admittedly the sandWISHes at the Marketo were more expensive, but it was to be expected since it’s a huge tourist destination and I am sure the overhead partially drives their pricing.
Back to Basics and BakingFocaccia
Upon returning home, I woke up my sourdough starter and started making bread again. I began with English muffins, in part because I enjoy making them, in part because I can easily share the bounty and I can use “unfed” starter. Of course, that includes trying my hand at focaccia so I can recreate some of the luscious sandWISHes I ate. So far, mixed results on the focaccia; it tastes good, but the crumb doesn’t have the big air pockets and lightness of the ones I enjoyed in Florence. Trial and error, practice makes perfection, and try, try again until I get it right. And don’t think for one second that I didn’t buy shelled pistachios to recreate that pesto either. Yes, there is mortadella, ham, and other fixings in the fridge and I will be eating all of it. I think I may never eat another sandWISH unless it is on focaccia. I said what I said.
This is the first in a series of posts about our recent trip to Italy. There was so much awesome food and so many amazing experiences that I couldn’t fit it all into one without you all losing interest.
Take me Places and Tell Me I’m Pretty
In case you didn’t know, I became a travel agent right before COVID hit. Not my smartest business move ever, but after traveling to Egypt, I decided I needed a kickback on our travel. Since that time, we have explored different cruise lines, countries, and areas of the US in new ways. When you are ready to travel, be sure to reach out so I can share my experiences and expertise with you.
Italy was AMAZING!
We just returned from two weeks in Italy. While we had stopped in a few ports of Italy on a cruise, we had never really spent a lot of time in Italy. For me personally, two weeks was more than enough. We flew into Florence, stayed a few days, then drove to Cortona, then back to Florence on the way home. One of the things I learned was that I will never fly into Florence again, that airport is a shit show.
Here’s a run down of some of the things I learned:
Tuscan bread has no salt. It’s pretty awful. Except for the focaccia. More on that in the next post.
I don’t care for most of the red wine in Tuscany.
They take their food SERIOUSLY!
They take their coffee very seriously. John didn’t have a bad cup of coffee the entire trip. And don’t order a cappuccino after 11 am.
Pici is my new favorite pasta, and I am hoping a certain restaurant in my ‘hood will make it a special one of these days. More on that soon.
Wild boar ragu and Chianina ragu are amazing. I knew about the wild boar, but it was astounding in Italy! Chianina was a whole new thing for me. More on that soon as well.
In the center of Florence, the streets are so narrow and none of them paved (all stones) that the cars, bicycles, and pedestrians share the streets. The drivers honk or ring a bell to get you out of their way.
Michaelangelo’s David is truly marvelous.
The Birth of Venus by Botticelli made me incapable of speech it was so gorgeous.
I’ve got to learn to pack lighter! None of the places we stayed in Italy had elevators, and dragging suitcases up steps is my idea of horror. I think all of the accommodations we enjoyed were in buildings over 200 years old.
Getting back your VAT is a pain the ass and not worth the trouble unless you buy a LOT of high-end goods.
I ate more truffles in two weeks in Italy than I did the entire past year.
White truffles should only be eaten raw as a garnish and black truffles should always be cooked. More on truffles and our truffle hunt soon.
The Perugina chocolate factory MAY in fact be the first factory to have on site childcare! When the men were called to war in WWI, and the women went to work in the factory, childcare was set up on site. Even though the factory has a new location, the childcare center still exists on site.
Pistachios and Pecorino are good on nearly everything!
Stay tuned for more of our adventures. In the meantime, go check out my Facebook page or my Instagram to see pics of the adventures! Oh and BTW – did you know you can SUBSCRIBE so you don’t miss a spoonful? Well, you can…and I don’t share your info with anyone.
I love grocery shopping. I know…I am a weirdo. Wandering the aisles, seeing what’s new, looking for bargains in the mark down bins, and sometimes running into neighbors in my local Smith’s is fun for me. I have my local supermarket, but I don’t stop there with my grocery list. I have learned through trial and error, and happy accidents, that many of the things on my grocery list can be found at better prices, oftentimes fresher, if I am willing to shop in more than one store.
Read on for some of my biggest money saving tips.
Get Out of Your Comfort Zone
We all get into a rut when it comes to routine tasks in our everyday lives. This includes grocery shopping. Sometimes, knowing the layout of the store makes for an easy, quick, and manageable task. I say throw caution to the wind and try another grocery store! It could be the same chain or a different one, but because the layout will be different, you MAY find grocery items you overlook in your regular store, or you may find that elusive ingredient from your childhood that you never seem to be able to find. For me, that item is Gravy Master – no, I am not buying 3 jars on Amazon for $25 and no, Kitchen Bouquet is NOT the same. It’s just NOT. And no, I don’t shop in W-Mart so I rarely see my beloved Gravy Master.
Check Out International Markets
Everyone knows about their local Chinese grocery store, or Asian grocery store in general. You know you can get chicken feet for broth and stock. Of course you can get the freshest fish, wonton wrappers, premade lumpia and egg rolls. You want an abundance of gorgeous fresh mushrooms? They’ve got it! And because the turnover in the cases is a lot faster and more frequent, you are bound to get fresher product than you will at a traditional grocery store. There is so much more to international grocery stores and cuisines out there! And believe me when I say they overlap a LOT.
This is a “happy place” for me. The entire right side of the store is filled with grocery items from several countries across Europe and the Middle East. The entire left side of the store is every flavor of Asian you could imagine from Hawaiian to Japanese, Thai, Korean and everything in between. What makes this grocery store so great? Fresh fish at a fraction of what you pay at a traditonal grocery store. Because of the high turnover rate, their phyllo and puff pastry are better, fresher, and less likely to have freezer burn. The Bulgarian feta in the dairy case is outstanding.
The Aladdin Market – 1775 E Tropicana Ave, Las Vegas, NV 89119
They are so small and intimate they don’t even have a website! I love this place because when I go in, the owner is there and greets me. He is fantastic at helping me find what I think I want and offers suggestions on new things to try, and the herbs…seriously! Gigantic bunches for a lot less than a traditional grocery store. A few other things I love about this store – the amazing mortadella with pistachios at the deli counter. It’s $7.99/lb as opposed to $11.99/lb for the Boar’s Head version which no longer has pistachios in it. And let’s face it, mortadella without pistachios is basically fucking bologna! The freshest pita, and flat breads in various sizes all at great prices. And the French feta! It’s so creamy & smooth and Aladdin has the best prices I have seen.
Gopal Indian Market – 1435 E Tropicana Ave, Las Vegas, NV 89119
Again, no website! When I first started experimenting with Indian cuisine, I was so confused and the folks here were AMAZING! Stepping into a new culture’s cuisine often involves unfamiliar grocery items and I was completely at a loss. Besan flour? WTF, and who knew there was more than one kind? I didn’t know what curry leaf looked like, let alone smelled like, but they helpfully showed it to me and taught me how to select good specimens. You want beautiful okra? Hit up this grocery store for the most gorgeous okra I have ever seen outside the south and at a fantastic price too!
Additionally, their spices are all priced extremely well and can be bought in multiple sizes of pkgs. Best of all, the spices are sold whole, not ground, so they will last a lot longer in your pantry (think cumin, coriander seed, star anise, cinnamon, etc.). Get yourself an inexpensive spice grinder like this one from Amazon so you are ready to roll when you load your cart with these whole spice beauties.
Stop Paying for Convenience
I know a lot of people use online shopping to streamline a task that for them may be enervating. I get it. Keep in mind you are in some cases paying a premium to NOT go in the store. Pay attention to delivery fees, pick up charges, and higher prices than if you actually go in the store.
During the pandemic, I used Misfit Market, Imperfect Foods, and the like. I felt like I was helping the planet with a food rescue situation, and it stopped me from going into the grocery store with a bunch of people that I didn’t know and probably didn’t want to be around. I have since stopped that practice because they aren’t cheaper, it wasn’t saving me money, I LIKE going to the store, and too often produce would arrive damaged or worse. In the end I had to go to the grocery store anyway to replace the unusable food items.
Know your pricing!
We love chili crisp (thanks Gemini & Kim for cluing me in on this condiment). The Hubs got so excited he ordered it online thru Amazon for $10…I pleasantly told him to stop grocery shopping unless I ask him to get something. The large jar at the Asian grocery store is less than $5. Keep in mind as well at the Mexican grocery stores, cilantro and green onions are typically 2 or 3 bunches for a dollar instead of a dollar each. And again, high demand and turnover make items like these fresher than at a conventional grocery store.
Use Store Specific Apps
Final tip. If you are shopping in a traditional mass market grocery store, be sure to have their frequent shopper card and download their app. Lately I have found coupons through the apps that save big bucks on meat, dairy, and produce.
I love tradeshows. And I love food tradeshows more than any other kind. Last week, I attended Pizza Expo for the very first time. Because pizza is my husband’s love language, he was ALL IN and had more fun than he ever thought possible at a tradeshow.
I attended lectures, workshops, and demos of all kinds, including a Trend discussion and a Q&A on tinkering with dough recipes to get exactly the results you want. I watched as local favorite Alex White of Yukon Pizza won Best Non-Traditional Pizza. The demo on the Chicago “tavern style” thin crust was illuminating. And I learned so much.
Gimme a New York Slice o’ Pizza
For years, all I ever wanted was a “New York” slice. It was hard to come by here in Vegas for many of our 26 years. Now we have some of the best pizza in the country! I have also broadened my horizons on what constitutes a “good” pizza. There are so many styles out there right now and I am learning to enjoy most of them. After watching a “New York” demo, I realized that MY favorite type of New York pizza isn’t the only type of New York pizza! The entire Expo for me was like a style workshop. Now I have a renewed interest in pizza, more about making it than eating it though. I feel like I must conquer the styles…Next style to try? Pizza al taglio.
Yes, I went to a Tailgate Party
We are volunteers for Slice Out Hunger (go to their site and get involved!) and we lent our hands to the the Pizza Tailgate event. As a thank you, we happily received an Ooni pizza oven. The Hubs nearly swooned. Of course, we put it to work right away, and I attempted a Detroit style pizza for the first time. It was delish! For those of you not in the know, a Detroit pizza is similar to a Sicilian, in that it is a pan style pizza, but it is generally MUCH smaller (think 8×10 or 10×14 instead of the entire sheet pan). The dough tends to be airier and lighter. Additionally, the toppings go all the way to the edges. The goal is to get a crispy lace of cheese all around the top outside edge. The Ooni made the process simple. The Lloyd pan (Made in the USA) I found at the show made the PERFECT crispy edge! Yes, the pan makes a big difference.
Fuel for the Creative Fire
The most fun thing for me about these types of tradeshows is the vendors never want to pack up their product and ship it back, so they give a TON of stuff away on the final day. As we were walking by the Krinos booth, we heard, “Please take anything you’d like”. A little further down the aisle, a 2-pound wedge of Pecorino Romano and a 1.5 pound wedge of Parmigiano Reggiano were thrust into my hands. The fine folks at Ferndale Farmstead Cheese asked me to take a 3-pound bag of tiny cubes of mozz off their hands. And because we live where the Pizza Expo is…we can take a LOT home.
Using Tony G’s recipe for Neapolitan crust in “The Pizza Bible” and the charcoal fired Ooni, we created this beauty.
When I attend a class, tradeshow, workshop or other learning experience, I get inspired! And my OCD and addictive tendencies kick in. I now have a fermentation station in the kitchen where I am testing out uses for sourdough discard in pizza dough, making poolish, biga, and other pre-ferments. Cookbooks are being scoured for the perfect dough recipes for me to try. The internet is being browsed for unconventional toppings – I am thinking Tikka Masala and Shawarma with feta or kashkaval right now… Needless to say, the Hubs is thrilled with my renewed interest in his favorite food. He has always said the pizza is his first love…
If you aren’t already following me on Instagram, check out the pics there as the discoveries unfold. And Subscribe (at the bottom of the page) to this blog while you’re at it so you never miss a spoonful.
If you are at all offended by foul language, I gently suggest this post is not for you. There will be foul language and inappropriate words that could upset you.
I know that I have been a slacker for the past several years, but I can’t seem to get out of my own way and create content that I think you will find interest and value in. My calendar reminded me that I needed to write my pet peeves blog, and this year I DO have some new ones. If you want to see the complete list you can click here, and here, and here, and while you’re at it, go here too.
This is the one blog I write that I really cut loose and let fly all the shit that’s been stuck in my head. This is the shit that really annoys me, pisses me off, or just irritates me. I expect you to chuckle. I’d love for you to share your pet peeves in the comments here. I welcome you to share this with your friends and start a discussion with me, them or anyone else about what pisses you off right now.
People and Their Tech
Video Chatting in Public
Guess what? The whole free world doesn’t give a flying fuck about Aunt Trudy’s bunion surgery, what you had for lunch, or that your 18-month-old grandchild wants to “talk” to you. Do that shit at home! You are annoying other people!
Playing ANYTHING on a Device without Headphones
On a recent trip to NY, folks were walking down the street with music blaring out of their backpacks. Like a new age boom box. I thought boom boxes were annoying and this was even more so. Guess what? See above. You are annoying other people. On a recent flight, some moron was watching a movie without headphones…the nice flight attendant set his ass straight!
Video Conferencing in Public
Look, we are all secretly grateful to COVID for encouraging the WFH movement. The H in WFH means HOME. Don’t do that shit in a restaurant, coffee shop or bar. We don’t care how important your job is or how important you think you are.
Things I am Completely OVER in Food & Bev
Over the top cocktails that take 10 minutes to make and contain 12 ingredients
“Shareable Plates” – what if I don’t WANT to share? This especially annoys me when the dish is “shareable” if you only have 1 bite. One menu said a Chicken Liver Mousse app was “shareable”…it was 2 little tiny toasts the size of a half dollar coin with a schmear of mousse each. My bouche was not amusé.
Any bar that labels and advertises itself as a “Speakeasy”. It was fun 10 years ago and cute 5 years ago and now it is just boring. By definition, a true speakeasy is a secret, probably illegal, lounge and you only get in if you know the location and password. If you are advertising your location, you are definitely NOT a secret and surely not illegal.
Crudo
FOMO*
I hate it when people park in front of my house, and they aren’t visiting me. I feel left out or like I am missing a party or something. I have finally become THAT old woman.
Seeing pics of events that I wasn’t invited to. I wanna go to everything!
Paying for an event because you had FOMO over past events and it NOT living up to your expectations – I am looking at you Life is Beautiful. I have no one to blame but myself here.
More Shit That Pisses Me Off
VIP experiences that are oversold – seriously. What is the POINT of a VIP experience, section, event if tickets are vastly oversold?
People who think rules don’t apply to them. For example – bringing kids to events or places labeled 21+ only.
Whining
Robocalls
Speed limits
Politicians – I am sick of ALL OF THEM. They all suck.
People who let their dogs shit in my front yard or any public area and don’t clean up after them.
*FOMO = Fear Of Missing Out in case you weren’t aware.
I always find myself eating tasty things. Sometimes I am eating recipes I created at home, other times I am eating fantastic dishes from amazing culinary professionals and chefs. Once again, however, I had a year of NOT eating dangerously. I don’t know if it is a leftover from COVID isolation, but I have found myself gravitating toward the comfortable and familiar. There were, however, a few standout dishes that I will share with you. Of course, if you follow me on Instagram, you may have already seen these. Enjoy them for the first, second, or third time!
We had spectacular Indian and Bangladeshi food in London. Fabulous French Bistro fare in Paris and there was a LOT of local eating as well. Because the Hubs and I each marked a major city off our Bucket Lists, many of these bites are from our travels. When you travel you will be able to enjoy them. And when you decide to travel, I do hope you will get in touch with me to let me help you plan a memorable trip.*
I will never know the special voodoo magic that Chef Brian Howard (2024 James Beard Nominee for Best Chef Southwest) and his team get up to in the kitchen. What I do know is that while eating this, there was no talking, just yummy sounds. It’s everything you want a great bite to be. It’s sweet and salty; it’s soft and crunchy, and made even more decadent with the duck confit in the center. And it is just gorgeous to look at.
Because the menu changes there seasonally, I suggest getting your happy ass in there and eating this while you can. May I suggest making a reservation? They are packed all the time!
This past spring, I finally realized a lifelong goal of seeing the Eiffel Tower and visiting Paris. I can say without hesitation, it is my most favorite of all the cities I have visited so far. Forget everything you have ever heard about the French being rude and hating outsiders. We did not experience that AT ALL.
I am not a Michelin Star hunter like some other people I know. In fact, before I went to Paris in April 2023, I had only been in one Michelin starred restaurant. In Paris, I found myself eating in two Michelin starred restaurants and several Michelin recommended restaurants. Before our trip to Paris, I chatted with James Trees (Esther’s Kitchen, Al Solito Posto, Ada’s Wine Bar) who had just returned from a research trip to France. I thank him for the recommendation to Racine’s. This meal was a true highlight of the trip. While I found myself eating croissants nearly every damn day…like you do…THIS meal was exceptional. Veal Tonnato is one of my “all time fave” dishes and this one was out of sight! The sauce was so velvety and smooth, I could have used it as lotion.
The place is small and packed every day, so if you have the good fortune to go to Paris, be sure to make a reservation. The menu is seasonal, and ever changing, so be prepared for surprises. We were lucky enough to sit upstairs in the small communal dining room and watch the pastry chef work. She even invited me to work with her for a spell. A meal I won’t soon forget!
While every hotel/casino in Vegas is creating a “Food Hall”, the Burough Market is one of the originals. On a 7-day trip to London, we were there twice and completely overwhelmed both times. The market is a hive of activity and our fantastic tour guide, Pieter, told us for the best sausage roll, a London staple and must have item, go to the Ginger Pig. We couldn’t get anywhere near the place on day one, so we went back early another day and hit them up as they opened.
I am so glad that we did! While this is an indelicate picture of me eating said sausage roll, believe me when I say, my eyes rolled back in my head with joy! The pastry was flaky and perfectly salted, the sausage had the most excellent sage level and I was a happy camper. For a great version, if you live in Vegas, go to Featherblade Butcher. They have them frozen to go and sometimes hot in the “grab & go” case.
The perfect sausage rollIsn’t this a great pic of me? haha!
For those of you who don’t know, I grew up in Hudson, New York, and trust me when I say, it was NOT the darling of the food media that it is today. I do not miss Hudson. In fact, I hated growing up there, but I do miss seeing the leaves change, and I do miss some of the people. That being said, this past fall, we ventured to see the leaves for the first time in 30 years. We kept the entire trip on the DL, telling only the friends we stayed with we were coming. We checked out the changes in my hometown, eating in new restaurants and drinking in new breweries.
Café Mutton is tiny and served only breakfast and lunch while we were in town. They earned a James Beard Award and now I know why! This dish was crazy good. They braise a pig’s head, then shred the meat off, using the collagen rich broth to cook steel cut oats. The oats go into a bowl topped with the succulent shredded meat and the whole thing gets the poached egg treatment with an unexpected (and initially unwanted by me) dollop of house made orange marmalade. Trust me when I say eating this was a major highlight of the trip to Hudson.
And finally, The Perfect Peach – My Back Yard
When I was growing up, it was normal to have tomato plants in pots or flower beds if you were in the city, and commonplace to have more than that if you lived, like we did, in a more rural setting. There is something special about eating food you have grown.
If you have been following along, you know we moved during the pandemic, leaving behind an established, landscaped garden with perennial herbs and fruit trees. Last spring, we planted our “orchard” and during the summer we were rewarded with a few pieces of fantastic fruit, like this perfect freestone peach. This year the yield will be higher, and I can’t wait! Eating a peach while the juice drips off my chin always makes me feel like a kid.
*This blog doesn’t pay the bills. I am a travel agent by day. Email me at LeAnne@RoamingRichly.com to get your best vacay started!
I do hope this makes you chuckle. The fervor with which I attacked this problem was legendary and all consuming.
In a previous post, I shared that I have a problem with hoarding food. Not in the gross “Hoarders” TV show way of hiding it or stockpiling it (well, maybe stockpiling a little bit), or anything weird like that. I am not a “prepper” for Pete’s sake. I just HAVE to have my fridge and pantry full to bursting.
The Hoarding in my Past
As I look at my past, I apparently have hoarding in my genetic code. My Great Grandmother, “Granny”, was notorious for swiping each and every single-use jelly packet, syrup cup, and honey cup on the table at any dining establishment. They were all unceremoniously dumped into her handbag. And if the purloined condiments came in little glass jars, she was even MORE delighted with her score. She had an entire collection of them at her home. I can understand her obsession and her hoarding. She lived through the Great Depression as a young adult.
In all honesty, I did something similar when I was in college. When you are 17, and broke, and living in the dorms, a date night to Pizza Hut, of all places, was a big deal. I used to take the parmesan container from the table, and replace it with an empty one, taking the full one back to the dorm to use on whatever I happened to be cooking in my hot pot. Is this really hoarding, or just plain stealing?
Present Day Hoarding
I’d like to say, and believe, that a lot of the hoarding happened by accident. And honestly, some of it did. If you have been following along, you know that we moved 2 years ago to a smaller house that needed MAJOR renovation and repair. It was pure coincidence that we ended up closing on the sale of our old house and the purchase of the new house on the same damn day. If I NEEDED to do that, you know it never would have happened. We honestly thought we’d be living in the old house while we began the renovations on the new one.
This is what hoarding looks like in its raw form…Even more hoarding seen since I had no where to hide it!
Well…THAT didn’t happen, and I ended up living in utter chaos for more than a year. I had no kitchen cabinets, so I had open shelving in several rooms of the house where I stored cookware, dishes, comestibles, and anything else you would normally find in an actual functioning kitchen. Before I tore out the cabinets, drawers were pulled from the kitchen and I continued to use them for storage on shelves. I couldn’t find a single fucking thing. See those pics above? THAT was my life for nearly a year.
A look at the kitchen under construction. And I promise to get back to live online cooking eventually.
When I was preparing to make a meal, if I couldn’t find an ingredient, I simply went to the store and bought what I needed (privilege of the middle class – yes, I know). Of course, I’d come home and then find what I needed. Too late! I already bought it. I guess I have 2 now…and the hoarding of ingredients began.
Then, dear friends of ours moved away from Vegas, and they dropped off several boxes of pantry items. I did give away more than half of the donations to a young friend who indicated that she needed it. And I gave away even more to a struggling family, but I kept some of it for myself…of course. And the hoarding of ingredients got worse.
Cleaning Reveals More than Expected
The other day I was in the pantry looking for something and found the telltale indications that I had a mouse in my pantry. Teeth marks on a bag of dried apricots (now destined for friend Kim’s chickens along with anything else the mouse got into) and a few little mouse turds. Then I got to thinking, “If that son of a bitch sampled one bag, you know he didn’t stop there.” I found it strange that the mouse went after ‘Nilla wafers, but didn’t touch my cereal, and didn’t touch ANY of the pasta or noodles or any of the Asian ingredients, like nori, dashi, or spring roll wrappers. Everything came out of the pantry. Literally everything got dusted, wiped down, inspected for predation, and expired dates, and then it was all reorganized.
When Friend Christine moved, she handed off some pantry items and they were labeled with painter’s tape. Now I do the same. Because it isn’t as sticky, it’s easy to remove or move it to another container.
Bins and airtight containers were purchased, washed, and filled. There was no fucking way that skeevy little vermin was getting at MY hoard of food! As I was attacking this task with gusto, I “found” things. Duplicates, triplicates, and quadruplicates of things. I must have been sleep-shopping, or fugue shopping when I ended up with some of this stuff in my cart! Here is a list of SOME of the weird shit I found while trying to exorcise the mouse:
3 quart sized bottles of apple cider vinegar with the “mother” – only one open *
4 bottles of Sherry vinegar – 3 of them open**
13 additional bottles of other assorted vinegars **
An entire 16” cube bin full of different dried Asian noodles
14 bottles, of varying sizes, of olive oil **
10 cans of assorted beans – and I only really like cannellini beans (there were 5 of those)***
3 large bottles of Red Boat fish sauce*
At least 4 different soy sauces
Expired apple cider, cranberry juice, and V8 – tossed ***
3 small jars of cornichons***
7 jars of mustard**
And the list goes on…
*“I can’t find it, so I’ll buy another” and found it when I got home.
**Some were gifts.
***But they were on sale!
In all fairness, most of the things I am hoarding are shelf stable with LONG expiration dates. Now, however, I am making it my mission to cook with ALL of this stuff because I can now actually FIND it! It only took two and a half years…
As for the mouse? I figured out how it was getting in. My pantry used to house my washing machine, and the mouse was coming up through the old drainpipe. I fixed that shit! I put one of the sealed bottles of soy sauce upside down in the hole. No more signs of the mouse.
Originally, I was looking for a discarded cap that would be the same size. Then I thought something with weight to it, so the mouse couldn’t move it, would be a better choice. Voila! Upside down bottle wedged into the drainpipe hole.
First of all, apologies for not finishing what I started in a timely fashion. Cooking and writing have been the last things on my mind. We went on vacation for 2 weeks – one GLORIOUS week in Paris and a second week in London. The Hubs & I were able to cross things off our “bucket lists”. You can see the pics on my Instagram. And then we got wrapped up in NHL playoffs – Go Knights Go (Stanley Cup Champs in case you weren’t following along)! And so much else has happened and I have been a slacker.
So where were we? Oh yeah! Now I remember, I was about to tell you how I REALLY learned to cook…
Like I mentioned before, I became interested in cooking when I was younger, and I THOUGHT I knew how to cook well until I went to culinary school. What started out as a passion for me as a teen was finally realized in my 40’s.
By the time I went back to school, I had been married for more than 20 years, The Offspring was in high school, I had done more than 1000 live cooking demos, and I thought I knew what I was doing. I knew I wasn’t going to get my degree, or work in a professional kitchen full time. This was for my own personal edification. I thought I was going to refine what I learned already throughout my life. Yeah…right… What I THOUGHT was going to happen, and what actually happened are two completely different things. It was 2009. I was 44.
There are four levels of competence in anything:
Unconscious Incompetence – you don’t know that you don’t know anything.
Conscious Incompetence – you know you don’t know how to do anything correctly.
Conscious Competence – you know what you know and have to think about doing it the right way.
Unconscious Competence – You don’t even have to think about doing it the right way, you just do it. And it’s always correct.
Think about shoelaces as an example:
Kids don’t realize they are supposed to be tied at first.
Then when they do, they come running to you to get them tied, because they know they don’t know how.
When they start to learn, they are focused, tongue sticking out of the corner of their mouth until finally…
The laces can be tied while they are saying they want a snack.
The goal, in learning anything, is to reach level 4. And do it as quickly as possible. I went into culinary school thinking I was a level 2, maybe a 3 and found out I was a level 1. Talk about demoralizing! Here I was, the oldest person in the class and I knew next to nothing! SHIT! My life experience was not a benefit here and my admittedly slower physicality wasn’t winning me any bonus points either. SHIT! I thought my 20+ years of practical time cooking in a kitchen would help me…WRONG!
Day one of kitchen practical in Cooking Basics (when you are actually IN the kitchen and not a classroom) I received a rude awakening as to how much I really didn’t know. It was basic knife skills. Now, people who don’t spend as much time in the kitchen as I do think I have great knife skills and I will tell you I suck, but I used to suck more.
I know how to hold a knife properly, always have. I knew to curl my fingers back from the edge of the blade; a lesson hard learned. But my skill set ended there. Chef Jill came up behind me, “Lower your right shoulder. Stand square to the board. Bring your elbow in, quit sticking it out. You can’t make a straight cut like that!” I gently put my knife on the cutting board, blade facing away from me, turned to her, and asked, “Am I doing anything right?” She looked me square in the eye, “NO.” In my head I said, “Challenge accepted.”
My poor husband ate more potatoes while I was in cooking school than he had in the combined other years of our marriage. Potatoes are cheap and are great for practicing knife skills. My composter got all the potassium goodness from those peels, and I learned how to properly, dice, batonnet, chiffonade, julienne, mince and so on. I never did learn how to properly cut a tourné or make a quenelle from the mashed potatoes, but I was miles ahead of where I started. And I scored the highest in the class on the final and overall grade, both practical and written exams.
The fire inside me for food and cooking grew even stronger. The more I learned, the more obsessed I became. I knew what a Michelin Star was and what a James beard Award was, but it never occurred to me WHY these were such big deals until I learned how to REALLY cook. Then I got it. Truly got it. And the unfortunate and soul crushing realization that I would never be part of that world, at that level sunk in. Did that realization curb my enthusiasm for cooking? NOPE!
Glutton for Punishment
I went back for more. I took Garde Manger and once again was the oldest person in the class. No one wanted to be my “lab partner” because during introductions I admitted I was there to learn, not to get a job. The rest of the class was there for a degree or to move up in the positions they had. Poor Jeff got saddled with me and he was decidedly unhappy…until until he realized my passion for cooking and desire for perfection. Once again, I scored the highest on the exams and Jeff and I aced the final far ahead of our peers to the shock and dismay of one particular douchebag.
School ended for me there. The remaining classes that I wanted to take required the pre-requisite of a class where you learn to run the school restaurant. I was not at all interested in doing that. My only interest was the learning environment. Even though I was willing to pay cash to NOT take that class, they wouldn’t allow me to skip it. It may be time for me to revisit that…maybe.
Culinary school opened doors for me in other ways. I had the wonderful experience of working for Texas Pete on their west coast events as their show runner. Old High School pal Chef Tim Grandinetti got me involved with them. I catered small gatherings; we started a supper club. I joined a cookbook club; I taught my sister how to cook via YouTube during the pandemic and I still will do live online demos when asked.
Sport Cooking, the New Addiction?
I’ve become aware that I am a “sport cook”. Friend Kim Foster, who moderates the cookbook club, is a James Beard award winner for writing, and has a new book just released (The Meth Lunches) clued me into that. I learn to do something outrageous or complicated, just because I CAN. Then I promptly forget it, moving on to the next culinary challenge I set for myself. I learned to do Julia Child’s stuffed, boned duck en croute, made French country pâté, chicken liver mousseline, and so on. A few things I challenged myself with that I still do are curing and smoking bacon, stuffing my own sausages, and other curing & smoking tasks. Basically, it’s another manifestation of my addiction.
For a gal who came from a background of want and need – wanting acceptance, needing validation, food, clothes, and friendship – a passion grown from need changed everything. I welcome people to my table. I still get nervous when a Chef comes to dine at my table even though I know they aren’t judging me. Nervous to the point that last Thanksgiving, I cut myself so badly that I couldn’t stop the bleeding without superglue.
Now as I prepare to get ready for another Thanksgiving – my favorite holiday of the year – I am secure in knowing that whoever joins us will feel welcomed. Happy that my table will be a safe harbor for those who choose to join us. I don’t worry whether there will be enough, there is always plenty. I don’t worry that my new home is smaller than the old one, we will make room for everyone who chooses to join us.
Expectations, Disappointment, Sour Grapes
This fall The Hubs took me back to upstate New York so I could see the leaves. I made a lunch reservation at American Bounty at the Culinary institute of America, the school I so desperately wanted to attend. If I am being honest, I was disappointed, but I am not sure why. Were my expectations high because the school was gilded in my mind? Did the remnants of my sour grapes about dreams not realized loom over the experience? Did the fact that I can eat extraordinary meals here in Las Vegas mute the expertise of the culinary students? Perhaps it was a combination of all of that. Still, I am glad I went.
Will you ever find me cooking in a commercial kitchen? Probably not. Heading toward 60 with a bum knee and a brutal and honest look at myself in the mirror, I can see that I physically don’t need or want the challenge that represents. For now, I will continue to challenge myself at home. Right now? I practice making quenelles to hide my dog’s medication. How’s that for fancy?
Experience has taught me I have an addictive personality. I find a new hobby and do it to excess and then abruptly stop, moving on to the next new thing. Sewing? Yup. Papercrafts? Yup. Cross-stitch? Yup. Projects are started and I go gangbusters on it until I am bored or distracted and then I move on to something else. It took me over a year to refinish a piece of furniture. There is a project piece currently in my back yard that I am “working on”. I started it last summer. I keep telling myself and The Hubs it will get finished as soon as the weather is stable, and I can work outside. The truth is I lost my steam and moved on to something else. Those are just examples of how my addictive personality reveals itself.
Addiction
I have an addictive personality. My Dad was an addict too. I bet my Mom is to a certain extent as well. Cocaine was removed from my roster in 1987. I began smoking at 15. I’ve stopped smoking at least a dozen times in my life, the most recent being 1 November of last year. Every hour of every day I want a cigarette and it has been 6 months of not smoking. Unlike other people who can be “social smokers”, I cannot. I am either all in, or all out. In my dreams I am smoking, and laughing, like an old school cigarette commercial. And then there is THIS ad…
I stopped smoking and then what happened? I replaced smoking with food and promptly gained 15 pounds. In other words, I substituted one addiction for another. (Moment of truth – I keep asking myself, which is worse for my cardiovascular health, carrying around the equivalent of a 15 lb bowling ball all day, every day, or smoking…?). The only hobby that has remained and morphed into something solid is cooking. Why? Because it feeds my addiction.
Having the abundance to eat whatever and whenever I want makes it so easy to feed my addiction. That’s a real problem there. Think about it. I know I have an addiction. I can financially support that addiction. My addiction is socially acceptable, unlike the drugs of my past, and doesn’t harm anyone…anyone except me. My addiction supports small businesses, and grocery stores, and farmers’ markets. No one gives me side-eye when I drive thru Popeye’s to get some fried chicken, like they did when I was snorting lines in the ladies’ room. No one feigns a cough when I grab a couple of tacos from a food truck like they did when I smoked near them. Food is a perfectly normal and accepted vice. As long as I keep my shit together and stay at a “socially accepted size”, no one cares.
Several years ago, I was diagnosed as, and I quote, “borderline bipolar”. I suffer from depression and then I have manic mood swings that I can’t control. They prescribed meds and all of them made me feel like a zombie. There was no depression, but I didn’t feel happiness either. I felt nothing. Except hunger. So I stopped taking them. I eat my feelings. I know I do and still, I can’t stop myself. Addiction. Happy? Have a cookie! Sad? Have some chips. Bored? What’s in the cabinet? Angry? Excited? Anxious? Let’s see what’s in the fridge! It seems food solves all the problems…for a while, just like the cocaine did. And then I can’t zip my jeans.
Disgust
Dining out can be a real challenge for me. I want to try at least half the menu in most places. We can afford it, why not? Then the leftovers come home, and I find myself in the middle of the night, after The Hubs is in bed, noshing on leftovers by myself. They say if you drink alone, or hide your drinking, you might be an alcoholic, but what if you eat alone or sneak food, or eat all the leftovers? What does that make you?
When I am at my lowest, food gets shoved in my face in a fog. Am I hungry? Probably not. Sometimes I don’t even realize I am actually eating until the dishes are piled in the sink, or the trash bin is full of empty containers. There are only two brownies in that big container, let’s get rid of that. Just a handful of tater tots in that bowl in the fridge, let’s make some room. That ice cream container is taking up too much space in the freezer! Let me get rid of that. Why is this large container in here with only a small amount of fried rice? Let’s fix that.
Did I even taste the food? Who knows? I tell myself that I am not wasting food. I convince myself that I am cleaning out the fridge, eating things that no one else wants (hello there are only two people in my house…), or making room for new leftovers. The lies I tell myself about food are astounding! It’s disgusting. I am disgusted and ashamed of myself. Does that stop me? Do I do it again? Of course I do because I have an addiction!
It’s more than the act of chewing that I want. And no, gum will not suffice. You don’t swallow gum. I eat until my belly is beyond full. I eat to the point of being uncomfortable, and I unbutton the fly of my jeans. Hell, I go upstairs and put my pajamas on. It doesn’t matter what time of the day. Sometimes I fall into a carb coma on the couch. When I wake, I am disgusted with myself.
Gluttony
The other day I was in the grocery store and somehow ended up in the chip aisle. Lay’s were on sale $1.99 each if you bought 4 or more. One bag was $4.79. I convinced myself I was saving money buying 4 when all I really wanted was to try the Dill Pickle Flavor. I eat potato chips until the bag is empty. For the record, it doesn’t matter what size the bag is. Five ounces or 500 ounces, once that bag is open, I will not stop until it is empty. Once the bag is open, I eat mindlessly until they are gone because those chips sing a siren song that I cannot ignore. They are my personal kryptonite. If the bag stays closed, I can resist them…for a short bit of time.
I remember as a kid the rare package of realOreos would magically appear at the house. My sisters and I would eat them with milk virtually all in one sitting, afraid we wouldn’t get our fair share. Worried if we would get them again. I KNOW I am going to get potato chips again, so WHY the fuck do I eat them all at once? Because I am a glutton. And then I am disgusted with myself over this behavior. What do I do? I eat even more! I already blew my diet for the day, so who gives a shit?! Then I can’t zip my jeans and feel even worse about myself…and it starts all over again. It’s a vicious circle.
Does my past experience with scarcity color my actions now? Probably. I can remember the first time I self-medicated with food. We were sitting around the table having baked ziti for dinner. I can see the kitchen of the trailer as clear as day in my mind and I can tell you what position at the table I was seated. The phone rang. There was a death in the family. Everyone else sat stunned and stopped eating, I took the entire pan of baked ziti and began eating directly from the pan. I can’t remember the year, but I am guessing it was 1975 or ’76. I was 10 or 11.
Next? Culinary School and how I learned to really cook.
The differing ways people look at food tell me a lot about who they are and sometimes how they grew up. Do they look at food as fuel, comfort, or something else? In my experience people who think of food only as fuel have probably never been in a state of want. Because of my personal experience, and having been in a state of want, I think of food in a much more complicated fashion and that’s not necessarily a good thing.
Safety – Comfort
When you are hungry – truly hungry – food takes on a whole different meaning. Have you ever looked in your fridge and saw empty shelves? Or gone into your pantry or cupboard and not find anything to eat? No one should ever have to experience that. I have. I have looked in the fridge and saw nothing but condiments and I’ve looked in the cupboards and saw nothing to make an entire meal.
The first time it happens, there is a certain low-level panic that starts to bubble up in your throat and wants to come out as a scream, but you don’t let it. You shove it down inside as if it was edible. You chew on that panic until it all but consumes you. Then you move on. It becomes less panic inducing each time until it feels normal. But is it normal? What is normal? Normal is a setting on the dryer; it shouldn’t be a feeling of hunger or panic.
Even now, as an adult, in an upper middle-class bracket, I start to get a little edgy if I can see the shelves in my fridge. I KNOW where my next meal is coming from. We can afford groceries and I KNOW I don’t have to hoard food, but this little part in my core is still afraid of empty shelves. I feel safe when I have a lot of food in the house. Food is comfort for me. Not fuel, comfort. A full fridge means I am safe. It means I don’t have to panic. But I do. I joke, telling myself and others that I am prepared for the Zombie Apocalypse. But I am not kidding. Not really. I am ready. And I still panic a little. Every now and then.
Then I feel absurd and clean out the fridge, like I am doing this morning. Organizing everything. Checking dates on condiments and tossing stuff out that I simply “had to have” and yet let spoil or go to waste. Because a full fridge meant wealth. Stability. Safety. Comfort.
Wealth – Status
I have a confession to make. In a way, it’s embarrassing, in a way it’s prideful. I have three fridges. Yes, three. And an upright freezer. And they are all full. There is one just for drinks. The one in my kitchen is the primary and has the most food. The one in the garage is the “overflow” fridge. There are two legs of prosciutto, a bag of limes, and extra produce. Who the fuck has two legs of prosciutto?
Occasionally, I use the overflow fridge to cure bacon or fish before it goes on the smoker. Frequently I store pots of stock for a couple of days until I am ready to skim fat off and can it. The freezer is similarly full. One drawer each for chicken, beef, pork, and fish. And shelves with phyllo, puff pastry, wonton wrappers, the bowl for my ice cream maker, and leftovers that are waiting for mealtime. The leftovers don’t always get eaten. Sometimes they are forgotten and become freezer burnt and must be tossed out.
Obviously, having the space and the funds to fill that food storage space, is a luxury and I know it. It’s the definition of “an embarrassment of riches”. I am acutely aware that I have more than most. It is baldly transparent to me that I should be ashamed to have such abundance, but it makes me feel safe. It makes me feel like I have finally achieved some level of status, never mind the wealth. Because a full fridge meant wealth. Stability. Safety. Comfort.
Reward
Additionally, sadly, I use food as a reward, an excuse, and a celebration. For myself and for my son when he was growing up.
“Get an A in Math and we’ll go for ice cream.”
“If you behave in the store, you can have a candy bar.”
“Wow! You did a great job on that project kiddo. Let’s have a celebration dinner. Where do you want to go?”
“I got the job! Let’s go out to eat.”
“It’s too hot to cook, let’s go out to eat.”
Or the most ironic one… “I lost 10 pounds! I’m going to get some fried chicken!”
You will notice that all the above involve going somewhere to eat. Not using the abundance of my fridge, freezer, and pantry. Because having the income to celebrate meant we didn’t have to do it at home.
The Offspring and I had “The See’s Ritual” when we went to the mall. At See’s Candy Store, you can go in any time of day, and they will give you a free sample of their choosing. When we went to the mall, if he behaved, we would go to See’s. He would get a free piece of candy, and because I felt guilty for walking in just for free candy, I would buy him a Scotch Mallow for later. How fucking toxic is that?
I rewarded good behavior with something unhealthy and celebrated it as a good thing! WTF?! C’mon, admit it. You’ve done the same thing. We all do. The one thing I have never done, is used meals as a punishment. “Behave or go to bed with no supper,” is cruel in my mind. To be fair, I have said, “This is not a restaurant. This is what’s for dinner. You can eat this or not. Your choice.”
Oh yes, and speaking of mealtimes, I am also a member of the “clean the plate club”. You know, “Eat everything on your plate. There are starving children in China!” I tried NOT to do that to my son. I have the rule that you must TRY everything on your plate, but you don’t have to finish it. It’s weird that I was able to exorcise THAT demon in a fashion, but still used food as a reward…
Comfort – Safety – Addiction
The reason certain foods are called “comfort food” is multi-faceted. You want to eat it because it makes you feel good, and you reach for comfort food when you are feeling low. Comfort foods recall memories of safety, happiness, family, and well…comfort. But when reaching for food becomes the norm and not the exception, and you are self-medicating with food to make yourself feel better, you have a problem. You may have an addiction. I know I do. More on that in the next installment.
