Serenity & Spice

Lately, I feel this pressure to do something. Create a work of art or destroy something beautiful. In the end, my stress with the ever-changing world around me and the constant stream of life-altering events have me lying in bed staring at the ceiling, waiting for the next crisis to occur.  During this pandemic, I did accomplish something. I wrote half a book about zombies. Last November, I participated in National Novel Writing Month or NaNoWriMo . I wrote the beginning of an atompunk story about a family that lives in a dome society created in 1955. It’s filled with 50s references, conspiracy theories, and zombies, but I only managed to finish half of it. Life gets in the way. I also made a coffee stout in honor of the month.  The blog post I wrote about it was probably one of my most popular.  As during most times of significant change, one is expected to keep themselves busy. I made my first mead earlier this month, and it's currently going through its second ferme...

I remember years ago, one cloudy afternoon when my dad decided to take me to Vino’s Pizza and Brewery not too long after my 21st birthday. He ordered two beer samplers and then proceeded to go through each one with me. My dad had been a BJCP (Beer Judge Certification Program) Judge for years and he took this as the perfect opportunity to teach me about beer styles.  It was probably January or February of 2006, and I had recently returned from my first tour in Iraq. Growing up, he had given me tidbits but never gave me an actual class before. To him, a beer tasting was a rite of passage for me. Ken Haycook was determined that his daughter would go out into the world knowing how to drink beer. In honor of Father’s Day, I made I Love You, Dad Pizza . I made pizza crust with 6 Bridges Cream Ale from Vino’s. A few months back, I did a beer and cookie pairing but wasn’t able to include Vino’s in the mix. Given this memory, I felt it deserved something a little more special.  My d...

 “A woman happy in love, she burns the soufflé. A woman unhappy in love, she forgets to turn on the oven.” - Sabrina (1954) Sabrina is probably one of my favorite movies. It stars Audrey Hepburn at the beginning of her career after winning the Oscar for Roman Holiday . It was also the first film she worked with Hubert de Givenchy for her costumes. It was a partnership that lasted decades.  This film is the other reference I think of when I think of soufflés. As a lovesick teenager, I loved this movie. I always dreamed of going off to Paris and coming back as a better, more cultured version of myself. However, I didn’t go to Paris; I went to Iraq. It proved to be a far dirtier personal transformation.   Hepburn plays the titular character as the daughter of the chauffeur to a wealthy family on Long Island. Her whole life, she had been in unrequited love with the younger son of the family, David, played by William Holden. To help her move on, she gets sent off to cul...

  As I write this, it is a cold, gray afternoon. The meteorologists predict snow, but as this is the South, what little flurries we get won’t stick. There will only be patches of ice on the road tomorrow. It feels like we are in a holding pattern. The future is unpredictable. This collective stress started as nerve-racking, then became comical, and now is exhausting. It's time to make chicken and dumplings. This is a family recipe, and it’s crazy stupid simple. Growing up, my mom would make this when it was cold and rainy like it is now. Served hot, it makes everything better. The recipe my mom had written out for me is very generic.  The measurements are what you feel is right and everything is to taste.  It’s strange because my mom has always been a micro-manager.  This recipe card is probably the most trust she has ever put in me to do something.  The chicken is any part of the chicken as long as there are no bones. The dumplings themselves are a mixture of 1...

There was a time when the world thought eating alone was good for your mental and emotional well being. It gave you a break from constantly interacting with other people. You didn’t feel like you had to smooze or make conversation.  You could just enjoy your food. I have eaten alone roughly 700 times this year, give or take, and most of those meals were filled with stress and crushing isolation.  At any moment, I could lose my job, my apartment, my boyfriend, and I almost did. That’s why, for the last post of the year, I wanted to make something delicious.  Shrimp Fra Diavolo is quite possibly one of my favorite dishes.  Spicy tomato sauce with succulent shrimp on a bed of linguine, or any variation thereof, makes my tummy happy. I used the recipe from Chili Pepper Madness . As spicy red peppers are hard to find this time of year, I used a teaspoon of Italian Bomba Hot Pepper Sauce from Trader Joe’s.  A little goes a long way, but so worth it. Who else thought ...

Now that Thanksgiving has been canceled this year, this may be the perfect time to take off some of the pressure we tend to put on ourselves for our own emotional and psychological well-being. We don’t have to roast a turkey or talk about the election. Now that we can’t gather in groups, some of the normal holiday stressors are almost non-existent.  Maybe that in itself is stressful. This weekend, Lost Forty Brewing came out with their annual triple barrel aged Nighty Night Imperial Stout. Usually, there is a big festival with games and booths, but this year, it had all been extremely scaled down for obvious reasons.  The release had been delayed by a month.  As the festival and beer are zombie-themed, it usually takes place around Halloween. For this year, they rebranded and called it the Year From Hell.   Social distancing guidelines were strictly enforced with pre-sale available online beforehand.  I, like most people, picked up my order and went home....

I have decided recently that I am going to stop planning my future.  That’s not to say that I won’t save money for a rainy day or contribute to a retirement fund.  I’m going to stop trying to answer the question, “where do you see yourself in five years?” I’m going to stop chasing after jobs I will never get.  Stop looking up houses on Zillow and fantasizing about a future that might not happen. Let’s face it. It’s pretty risky for most people to be making big financial decisions right now. We could be living in a zombie apocalypse come January.  For right now, I think I will stay where I am and focus on what I can control.  It’s where I might need to be.  I think I will write a book this month. For those of you who don’t know, I will give the obligatory breakdown of what NaNoWriMo is. The goal is to write 50,000 words during November or one novel. This will be my first time participating even though I have never finished a book before. Usually, there is th...

When I was about 18, I wanted to become a rock writer.  I saw Almost Famous and thought that was what I wanted to be.  I didn’t identify with Penny Lane, but with William who felt awkward and unsure of his place in the world.  I wanted to be something more than a groupie or feel like I’m kidding myself.  I think the reason I wasn’t very good at it was because I wasn’t a particular type of fan.  I loved going to shows (still do) and have always enjoyed various genres of music.  Music was something I shared with my dad, but I was never the uber fan.  I believe they call them stans now. I was never the teenaged girl screaming the moment she saw her favorite band and covering her walls with their posters.  The other side of that coin is the cynical musical snob who, for all of his knowledge and criticism, works at a record store or bookshop while he practices with his own band at night.  I use the pronoun “he” because this person is usually male...

I have seen posts and articles that try to explain who Anthony Bourdain was and his contribution to this world.   They mention his TV shows or his books.   Those that know better, call him Chef first.   He was more than just a television personality or writer.   He was more than just a chef.   He toiled and recovered from drug and alcohol addiction to be among the elite of the grueling Manhattan restaurant scene; a place where many chefs have failed.   Kitchen Confidential exposed the mysterious world of the back of house and shaped the idea of the modern chef.   The modern chef is passionate and unapologetic.   He/she prepares dishes that satisfy the soul surrounded by flames and very sharp knives.   The modern chef is a pirate and an alchemist.   Chef Bourdain made food cool.   With the book’s popularity, he found he had become one of those celebrity chefs that he hated.   His natural gift for writing and thirst for advent...

I have a habit of stumbling upon memories while cooking. On an ordinary weeknight, I will throw together something quick for dinner. Usually it’s pasta of some kind. On occasion, I will start a roux and add some milk, basil, and garlic. With that first taste, I am eight years old. In a dark corner of an ordinary shopping center in Casa Linda, there existed a tiny restaurant called Frankie’s Little Europe. Frankie, the owner, would greet every guest who walked through the door. He knew who his regulars were and treated them like royalty. My parents and I had been regular customers there for years. Because of how expensive it could be, my father would limit taking us there only on special occasions which ended up being at least once month. Frankie would drop what he would be doing, rush over and kiss my mother’s hand as soon as we stepped through the door. Regardless of how busy they were I never remember waiting. At places three times their size, we would wait for over an h...

It calls to me. That sweet sugary goodness in all of its confectionery glory lays waiting for the time I can come to rescue it from its cold isolation.   Its flaky crust... its smooth cocoanut filling…sweet cream piled high on top.   It waits for the moment I can come to claim it.   It’s not mine.   The pie doesn’t belong to me.   I have become Eve in the Garden of Food tempted by the forbidden baked good from the Refrigerator of Knowledge.    I wrestle with my temptation every day.   Whether it’s a juicy cheeseburger with thick cut bacon or a box of assorted doughnuts, I gorge myself until there is nothing left of the cool and controlled person I was only moments before.   Only one bite, but that’s never enough.   Maybe one piece…exquisite.   Soon I jump into a diabetic’s dream; fluffy whipped icing, wonderful hard candy that gets stuck to your teeth, rains of sprinkles and chocolate chips pore over me as I div...