Me again.

It’s been awhile since I lasted blogged on this site and I think now I am ready to actually do something with it. If anybody actually reads this great, if not it is like a diary for myself . Which works just the same.

The post before this I know speaks of my trip to NYC last year. I mentioned I was on a mission to eat at different pubs and share my experiences along the way. Well time, money and honestly a depression over my oldest son going to boot camp in the Marine Corps snuffed that out faster than you can say fish n’ chips.

Well sometime after the holidays were over and a change in our cable service that gave me BBC, and I find myself on a journey of cooking. Now I have always loved cooking.  My poor husband married me even though I was unable to cook. I always wanted to learn but just never did. 8th grade Home Ec only gives you so much. I remember clearly cooking some sort of  Ratatouille and feeling like I was actually learning to cook. That was a short lived feeling. Later I use to cook lunch for a group of hardwood floor guys in my parents house. I am sure if they are reading this my mom is most likely going why didn’t we get a deal on hardwood flooring and why didn’t I know about this?  They were friends of a guy I dated for a short and rather stupid period in my life but I enjoyed cooking and seeing these guys eat what I made. Though I think they would have eaten anything. Bugs perhaps? Yeah I am sure they would have.

First meal I ever cooked in my new apartment with my husband was pork chops. I had to call my father in law to help. He laughed and told me how but I am sure he was fearing for the health of his youngest son’s life. Have to say along my years of being married my father in law has taught me a thing or two and while I am not always in on how he does things , I confess, and I guess secretly , I love watching this man cook. He cooks with passion. I just wont do the turkey tent he does. To much work and math in it for me thank you. And if your reading this I know you know I mean that jokingly and with love.

I remember another meal in which my husband’s best friend and this guy’s girlfriend were coming for dinner. I wanted to impress my husband and friend and show off to the girlfriend cause well I just wanted to put her in her place somehow. Wont get into the thinking of an 18 year old girl. We don’t always think and that is another topic for discussion. Anyhow it was a stirfry dish.  I went and collected all kinds of exotic ingredients. Or what I thought were. I remember dandelion being weird to eat cause we were always killing at my mom’s home.  The dinner turned out great expect for the 5 min rice I bought which we all joked should have been called 30 minute rice. Yeah I managed to screw up boxed rice.

Other cooking adventures included a peanut butter pie that ended up all over the walls , ceiling and appliances in my very tiny kitchen thanks to one cat who had to get under my feet and cause me to fall and the pie went up and hit a counter or the stove and sprayed the hot mixture everywhere. I cried very hard that day. We found chocolate and peanut butter all over that place for the next year.

Not to sound like I am stealing from that movie Julie & Julia but food has saved me in a lot of ways. It has not always been my cooking but that of others. My grandmother (paternal) was a wonderful cook.  If I could learn to cook like her I would be happy. I have very happy and fond memories for the short time she lived near me of being in the kitchen watching her make her famous strawberry jam to pork chops that I still can’t get just like hers.  I adored being in the kitchen with her. I loved how much my grandfather looked at her when he sat down and raved about her cooking. This past January as I sat in a hotel room in South Carolina I listened to my Uncle and cousin rave about what a good cook she was.  That was where I knew my new (again) found love for cooking and creating in the kitchen had more to it.  It was not only something I can do for creative outlet but a way to feel close to my grandmother again who passed on in 1994.  It could lift me up again and it has. Who knew cooking would have me trying new things and doing things I would not even thought of doing. I love my life again. I love my family eating and trying the new things I am making.

It’s funny my passion came back as I hit a depression with my son being gone. I sat there watching Chef Ramsay Gordon help people fix what was wrong with their restaurants and his passion for fresh , simple ingredients. When I stumbled onto  The F Word I was sold and ran out to my local library and got a book and tried a few things. Wonderful things. I bought a book and then suddenly remembered my love for other Chefs I use to watch and dream of being like when I grew up.  Chefs like Julia Child, Jacques Pepin, and Jeff Smith. Ok maybe I don’t want to be like Jeff Smith outside of a kitchen but you get what I am saying.

Well I have rambled on way to much for a simple post on a blog. My garlic roasted in red wine is out of the oven and on the counter cooling. I am going to tackle Boeuf  Bourguignon tonight. I know, I know sounds like I am trying to be like that Julia and Julie movie but it sure made that look good and I love a good Sunday meal.  Friday I made the most amazing Thai Hot and Sour Soup from “Cooking at Home with the Culinary Institute of America”.  That turned out amazing.

Next time I have to share my experience that I had last night at Pacifico in New Haven. Oooohh was that ever good. I might even say nearly orgasmic. Yes I said that.




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