Hash!

I've been trying for two days to write about the hash I made the other night, and I couldn't come up with anything interesting or witty to say. Of course, I finally realized it's because there really isn't anything brilliant about hash -- it's a very plebian, slightly dull, comfort food (at least the way I make it). But I love it, and isn't it that stolidly boring predictability what makes it a comfort food?

What's yours?

We all have them. In fact, there's a show on The Food Network called "The Best Thing I Ever Ate" and some of the favorite foods of the chefs will make you raise an eyebrow and think "yeah, right, to each his own." We should never judge, just enjoy the wonderful diversity of tastes, customs, habit and cultures that make up our earth.

You know, I hope there is life on other planets, because I'd love to know what THEY eat.

Oh, and Smoking Loon Merlot, at under $10 a bottle, goes great with hash made from leftover chuck roast. (I put a little IN the hash too, just for shits and giggles.)

My hash recipe (courtesy of my mother, really): chop up potatoes, onion, garlic, and leftover roast. Sauté everything but the roast in some olive oil, then add leftover gravy and enough water to liquefy so the potatoes will cook. Add salt, pepper and Herbes de Provence (or whatever herbs you like) to taste. When the potatoes are cooked, add the roast and heat through. Thicken gravy if needed.

You can throw the wine in whenever you like during the process, or just stand there and drink it. I'm not convinced it adds anything to the hash, but it makes me feel vaguely gourmet about the whole process, e.g., "I'm not just standing here drinking, I'm COOKING."

Top lavishly with ketchup (the hash, not the wine) and enjoy!

Hot Texas Summer . . .

No, I didn't eat the bird. Its bedraggled feathers and panting demeanour, in my opinion, perfectly sum up how this Dallas, Texas summer of 2011 has felt. Blistering, wiltering, overpowering heat for 70 days. It's a new record. Whoopee.

However, I enjoyed the 90 days of June, July and August, in spite of the heat. I had a new job and a new living arrangement (house, roommate). The job sucked but the cooking at my house was spectacular! I love playing off the creative instincts of another good cook who's as competitive as I am, so together and separately we cooked amazing meals. The Cooking Channel played almost constantly to keep the creative juices flowing.

Rick wins in our theoretical cooking competition, with perfect risotto handed to me at 12:40 a.m. with a glass of wine, as I dragged in from work. (I need a different job, by the way. I'm too old for this shit.) That thoughtfulness -- and the food -- revived me enough to show up for work the next day.

However, I was able to counter with an awesome Sunday al fresco lunch consisting of fresh-made coleslaw, hot bollilos grabbed as they came out of the oven at Fiesta Mart, a whole snapper and whole tilapia plucked live from the tank, cleaned and gutted at the store, and grilled over mesquite wood chips. That was a vodka/tonic, rum/juice event, appropriate for this summer.

Summer is OVER (would someone please tell the atmosphere that???) and Rick is back in cool California. He taught me to appreciate Marmite. I showed him how to eat raw oysters. We watched innumerable episodes of "Chopped," "Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives," and gained some weight. Good times and bad times, and lots of memories. Life is still good!

But I still need another job. Seriously.

Virgin America Airlines

Virgin America ROCKS! (Does that phrase date me? Oh, well, tough . . .) Usually I fly American Airlines to Los Angeles but this time Virgin America had a better deal, so I found myself on an airplane that, according to my knowledgeable travel companion, looked like a porno set: lavender lighting with pink/magenta side lights.

I'm blown away (not by the lights, though they WERE really pretty). Granted, I'm far removed from my international jet-setting days (would someone PLEASE offer me a job with TRAVEL???), but after the pedestrian domestic years of American Airlines, United (sorry, Terry), and Southwest (no slam, Herb, you're first and coolest for in-Texas hops), Virgin America was a breath of fresh air. I like the order-and-pay feature on the screen in front of each seat. That's GOT to be easier for the flight attendants, which probably accounts for their cheerful, helpful dispositions. On the flight to L.A., I was absolutely gobsmacked by one of them. My step-dog, a 2.4-lb. cotton coat Yorkie, was restive in his carry-on, so I sneaked him onto my lap, intending to quickly put him back in before the flight attendants would notice that he was out and scream for the U.S. Marshal. (You never know how dangerous a 10-year-old, toothless, 2.4-lb. dog can be -- ask my 55-lb. basset.) The flight attendant caught me with Littleman (yes, that's his name) on lap, and she immediately . . . gushed about how cute he was, asked to borrow him, and introduced him to the whole cabin, disappearing so far to the front that I expected to hear an announcement that Littleman was the guest pilot.

On the return flight, I am enjoying my second $6 mini-bot of Hayes Ranch In the Saddle Cabernet Sauvignon while writing this. (You knew I'd have to work wine into this somehow.) This is a good wine: strong cherry and blackberry notes, smooth finish -- I will actually seek this one out for my personal enjoyment. I'll be interested to see how much a regular size bottle is. I ordered the Protein Pack for $7. It was a grudging purchase, to mitigate the effects of Alcohol At High Altitudes, but I'd already rejected the incredibly overpriced food offerings at LAX. I made the right decision. I had a nutritious lunch of tuna, hummus, gluten-free crackers and some other crackers that were really good. I saved the Craisins and nuts for the next time I have to work until midnight or beyond. Or the next rice pilaf stuffing for the two Cornish game hens in my freezer. (I came home from work one night to find that waiting for me -- wow.)

Life is good. Pleasure is wonderful; pain also serves a purpose. It reminds us that we are alive. It spurs us on to find what gives us pleasure. You have to have sour to appreciate the sweet. It's the contrast that gives life the full well-rounded flavor of a good wine: the beginnings down to the end notes, where the fullness is savored and remembered.

And I just spilled wine on my foot. I swear, I am the CLUMSIEST blogger on the planet! But I'm BACK (at least for now).

Moral of this blog: try Virgin America -- I think you'll like it!

Unemployment Is Great . . . Except For The Pesky Money Thing

Actually, I think I was long overdue for some down time and now I'm getting it. Of course, in my fashion I'm filling up my days with job hunting, cleaning, unpacking, and admiring the flora and fauna of my new nest.

I HAVE LIZARDS!!! Big green ones, smaller brown ones with a lighter strip down their backs, and night-prowling geckos (which aren't really lizards but they kind of look alike). Yes, some of you may think "ick," but lizards remind me of my St. Croix childhood, so I feel doubly at home.

It's a new challenge because I'm cooking for two people now instead of four. Granted, there are fewer opinions and palates to consider, but "what do you want for dinner?" is unfortunately met mostly with a bored "I don't know . . ." followed by "no" to my menu suggestions. I have had a few hits, though: Beer Can Chicken last Thursday was definitely one of them. I've decided I like anything that takes about 10 minutes to prepare and then cooks by itself for an hour and a half. That left plenty of time to sit on the patio with a glass of wine and talk with a friend.

My wine tasting has been drastically curtailed due to lack of funds -- it's a luxury, not a necessity. I did, however, allow myself $6.99 for a bottle of Smoking Loon Pinot Noir. It's really pretty decent, but you have to get it to the right temperature. Reds should be served between 55-65 degrees, and whites (for the most part) between 45-55 degrees. That estimate varies based on the dryness and sweetness of the wine, of course, but suffice to say that the warm top of the refrigerator does nothing to improve the bouquet of a $6.99 bottle of red wine. Live and learn!

Sticks and Stones . . . But Mostly Sticks

I love my new house. It's the perfect size and is graced with two large trees, one in front and one in back. They provide shade, soothing sound effects when there's a breeze, and an acrobatic facility for the neighborhood squirrels.

And since it's spring in Texas, they are also providing a multitude of work. Good thing (work with me -- I'm making lemonade here!!) I'm unemployed at the moment and have time for all of this. The spring storms bring green grass, flowering plants, and a multitude of sticks and other debris from the trees.

I tackled this particular chore with logic and a deadline. Since I am a new homeowner, I have a plethora of boxes that need to be unpacked and it's all too easy to flit from one job to another and not accomplish much of anything. I am methodically taking one room at a time and arranging it to my satisfaction. True to my blog, the kitchen was the first room. I love it. It's smaller than my old one but compactly arranged so that I don't have to take more than one or two steps to move from task to task.

As for the do-it-yourself bonfire kit that the trees generously deposited in my front yard, backyard and -- just so it wouldn't feel neglected -- the pool, I allotted one hour for the front yard and one hour for the backyard and pool to see how much I could get done. (See results above.) That made the chore less onerous because I could count down until my time was up, and I accomplished a lot!

So far, after living in the house for one week and two days, we've had all sorts of home ownership type drama: no hot water (I set up an account with the gas company in advance of the move but used the wrong address); no functioning pool equipment (so far I've had to purchase a pool motor and a filter may be next); and no air conditioning (old, jammed-in filter caused the pipes to freeze). However, this is MY house and I'm loving every minute of it . . . well, maybe not the cold showers.

On the PLUS side, I love the neighborhood. It is older and graceful, with a nice mix of younger folk and retirees. I have beautiful green lizards in my yard, which remind me of my childhood in St. Croix. And the previous owners landscaped so that a new riot of flowers appears as spring meanders toward summer. It's beautiful -- scares me a little bit, though, because gardening is NOT my strong point, but perhaps I will develop an affinity for it.

Changes

King Whitney Jr. once said: "Change has a considerable psychological impact on the human mind. To the fearful it is threatening because it means that things may get worse. To the hopeful it is encouraging because things may get better. To the confident it is inspiring because the challenge exists to make things better."

That's okay -- I don't know who King Whitney Jr. is either . . . but it's a good quote.

In the space of seven days in March, my divorce was finalized (March 15), I closed on my new house (March 21) and I got laid off (March 22). The last was not totally unexpected but pretty horrible timing. I look on all of it as a chance for new adventures. Of course, I'm actively searching for a new job, and I have a few possibilities. I'm moving into the new house this coming weekend.

Since I'm unemployed, I have new challenges to face (besides paying the mortgage). Originally, I thought the old house would be sold by now and I'd have half of the profits to furnish my new house comfortably. Unfortunately, thanks to the economy, that hasn't happened, so in addition to unemployment and a new house, I still have my half of the bills for the old house to keep up with.

As I look around at what I will be moving to the new house, it's easy to think I'll need this or that or I MUST buy this, but I've started a new game with myself: my goal is to spend NOTHING on furnishing the new house but make do with what I have. I have a lot of my parents' things (pots & pans, miscellaneous side and kitchen tables) that have been stored in the garage. I have a double bed that was in the guest room and that I will use for myself until I can afford a queen size bed. I have an inflatable bed that can be put in the guest room. I can use a laundromat until I can afford a washer/dryer, or, if I can afford a washer, I can dry clothes the old-fashioned way -- on a clothesline. (They smell better that way, anyway.)

I may not be able to afford wine for a while, but my cooking is going to get creative and, hopefully, even healthier. So join me in my new adventure, and let's see where it leads!

Wow, over a month since my last blog!

There's been a lot going on -- eating and drinking, certainly. Life continues in its inexorable forward progress with its serene and endless round of mornings, afternoons and evenings, and events fit themselves into the flow of life as threads are woven into a piece of fabric. "The fabric of our lives . . ." For those of you who know me, Chris and I filed for divorce on January 6, after 27 years of marriage. Since then I haven't felt much like writing but I do want to get back to it. I enjoy translating my thoughts into words. I haven't found particular pleasure in exploring new recipes and new wines as we have been trying to get through the mechanics of divorce, getting the house ready for sale, looking for new places to live, and trying to keep up with work and make sure our children's lives aren't too disrupted. Even though it's being done amicably, it's still pretty damned tense at times, and we are handling it with as good grace as is possible under the circumstances.

I do not regret one minute of my marriage, just as I do not regret one minute of my life. Today is the 8th anniversary of the discovery of my dad's body after his suicide two days previously, and coincidentally it is the 11th anniversary of the violent death of the beautiful daughter of a friend of mine. Tragic events, both of them, and totally unnecessary. Life has moved on but their memories will always be with us and make us who we are today. I embrace the good and the bad, learn what I can, and hope that I am a better person for the experience. It is those who move through life without learning anything from their experiences who miss out on the wonderful tapestry of life.

Yes, I have cooked tonight. I have a glass of Fleur Pinot Noir at hand and I raise it to Bill Bibbee and Bonnie Jennifer Lowe, two beautiful people who enriched the lives of all who knew them.

I'll be back with insouciance, cooking, and lovely wines. My life goes on, and I love it.