Serenity & Spice

“Savory, tasty, scrumptious, delectable, succulent, mouth-watering.” When I have the rare moments of euphoria and clarity, I realize that any time is the time things can happen.  All you have to do is make them happen. It’s hard most days.  My attention is usually on other priorities.  Clinical depression gets in the way.  It’s always easier thinking about doing something than actually doing it.   My first cooking challenge will be to make caramel éclairs. I’m going off the recipe I found at Little Ferraro Kitchen . I have wanted to make these since I was 14 years old and saw the movie Simply Irresistible . It stars Sarah Michelle Gellar, at the height of her Buffy fame, playing a chef who incorporates everything she’s feeling into her food, which in turn causes everyone who eats it to feel the same way.   If that concept sounds familiar, that’s because it’s the same concept as Like Water For Chocolate . Magic in the kitchen. That’s where the sim...

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...

                        It has occurred to me that I should include an article about a local establishment and give my review or praise in some sort of way.   Here it goes.                         Yesterday, I decided I wanted spicy wonton soup.    As it hasn’t been necessarily cold, it has been rainy.   I wanted the feel of the warm broth and the unique taste of Szechwan peppercorns on my lips.   One of my new favorite culinary treasures in the city right now is Chi’s Dim Sum and Bistro’s Traditional Menu.   So much Chinese food in the west is watered down Americanized gloop that adds sugar and corn starch to every dish contributing to the US obesity epidemic.   The Asian fusion restaurants such as Southern Gourmasian and Kemuri a...

I think about all of the GOP candidates that were far more qualified for office. Candidates who were more educated and had greater achievements. Most had extensive backgrounds in politics, the military, and civil service. They knew full well the demands of the office of President and fought for it because they wanted a chance to make a difference. Their policies aside, any one of them would have been a better choice for the job than the one who was hired. Which is better? Embittered quiet rage or going for broke? The other day, I was out Christmas shopping with my mom. We were looking for a parking spot at Whole Foods and she told me look up front for any spots. For as long as I could remember, she had a knack for always finding a close parking space where ever we went. Sure enough, there was a spot two spaces from the front door.  “As always, old buffalo hide strikes again,” I said, using an affectionate nickname my dad had given her over the years. She responded, “...

The sudden smell of a fresh piece of paper and I think Fall. It will all happen in the Fall. It’s not that I want everything to be pumpkin spiced, it’s that my summer has been hijacked in a way. Diabetes runs deep in my family. Both of my parents have it. My aunt and grandfather died from it. Recently, my mother’s been put on dialysis because of it. It’s a very scary thought. Because I have not been taking the proper care of myself in the last few years, my doctor has placed me on a low carb diet. I can have a cheeseburger but without the bun. Pastas will be made with zucchini instead of noodles. No pizza, no sushi, no sodas, and above all, no cake. Most fruit is high in carbs. There will be no going out to eat because restaurants pile on the sugar and salt. In a way, it’s a good thing and needed to happen. I am getting older. I just keep thinking; things will get better in the fall. I will be more fit and occasionally can indulge in the foods I love, but only if I do...

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...