Category: Blog (Page 11 of 30)

Raise your hand if you ever penned a letter to your local paper telling them how wonderful your mom is and exactly why she should be crowned “Mother of the Year!”  You’re probably expecting me to attach a copy of the one I submitted all those years ago, but alas, we couldn’t seem to locate it.

Doesn’t matter, really, as I’m quite sure that what I comitted to paper as a child would probably have read something like this…

Dear Newspaper Person:

I think my mom should be Mother of the Year because she wakes us in the morning saying “Up and Adam!” and then makes good smells come out of the kitchen, which makes me grin even when I’m fighting my brothers for the bathroom.

My mom has the prettiest smile in the whole wide world and a laugh like some sort of bird – probably a lark or a dove, but not a crow.  She makes everyone feel warm.  Her name is Patty.

My mom has lots of rules but when my dad is gone on work she makes our special spaghetti sauce and we play games in the backyard or go swimming at the lake.  Sometimes she lets me stay up late.  We have saltines with tuna salad.  She talks with me and thinks I’m funny and smart.

My mom should be Mother of the Year because she always smells good and looks really nice when dad takes her out to dinner.  They come home laughing and then sleep in late and we get to watch cartoons instead of doing chores.

My mom is really strong and can lift really heavy stuff.  She is smart, too and knows all about how to mend broken things because she was a nurse and that means she can rip off a band-aid with almost no tears.

She makes cookies and cake for after school and helps with homework. She doesn’t take sides when all of us kids argue, she laughs a lot, reads a really good story and tucks me in.  Even when we sometimes hate it, my mom makes us all be together and then things are better.  My friends think she’s neat.

There are lots of moms out there and I’m sure they are good ones, too, but it takes an extraordinary person to be the mother that mine has chosen to be:  always with a smile, some food, some understanding; laughter, love and deep sense of family. I think my mom should be Mother of The Year because she is all that……and she hugs the best.

Thanks, Mom – Uh Vuh, 2

I came up with this dish on the last night of a very long charter (2 weeks) in the Virgin Islands. Most of the crew’s brains had already sailed home, so we were running on fumes. We were running low on supplies and all I had left were a few chicken breasts, some canned crab and jumbo prawns. It felt as though my creativity was already at the dock. I was stumped and exhausted. However, like all great charter boat chefs, I pulled it out of my ass (after smoking a big……Marlboro), dug through the reefer (frig), and found two containers of boursin. I managed to score some fresh spinach from a neighboring boat, concocted a groovy garlic cream sauce and proceeded to cook an incredible meal. My guests adored it! They named this beauty “Chicken Rhapsody” in honor of our beloved yacht.

Chicken Rhapsody

Serves 4

• Preheat Oven to 425 degrees

Ingredients:

• 4 Boneless chicken breasts, pounded thin
• 1 Lb. Fresh Spinach – Cleaned
• 8 oz. Boursin – softened
• 8 oz. Lump Crab Meat
• 2 t. Lemon Juice
• 2 T. Flour
• 2 T. Olive Oil, 1 T. Butter
• Salt and Pepper

Directions:

Remove skin from the breasts and set aside. Pound out breasts to ¼ inch in thickness and pat dry with a paper towel. Sauté the spinach with a bit of olive oil and salt. Squeeze excess moisture through cheese cloth and roughly chop.

Mix the cheese, crab, lemon juice and spinach in a bowl and spread a layer of this mixture on one side of each breast. Roll each breast up securely, wrap with reserved skin (optional), and secure with a metal skewer or butcher twine.

Season with salt and pepper and dredge the chicken rolls in flour. Sear on high heat in a large skillet with the olive oil and butter. Put pan in oven for approximately 8 minutes or until breasts no longer have any give when you poke them with your finger (you can always cut into one if you‘re uncertain – that can be yours). Remove the pan from the oven and flag it with a hot pad for good measure. Put the chicken on a plate, cover and set aside.

For the Sauce:

• 2 T. Flour
• 2 T. Butter
• 2 T. Shallots
• 1 T. Minced Garlic
• ½ C. White Wine
• 2 C. Heavy Cream
• 2 T. Fresh Tarrogan, minced (or Dill)
• 1 T. Fresh Thyme, minced
• 4 Butter pats, cold
• 12 Jumbo Shrimp – Deveined, Tail on
• Salt and Pepper

Directions:

Using the pan you cooked the chicken in, pour off all but 2 tablespoons of fat. If you don‘t have that much, add enough butter to bring it to 2. Heat the pan over medium high heat and add the shallots and garlic.  Cook for 3-4 minutes.  Add the flour and stir until it smells like nuts. Cook for a few more minutes and deglaze with the wine. Stir constantly to loosen up the fond (brown crusty bits forming on the bottom of the pan).

Increase the heat to high and add the heavy cream, tarragon and thyme and shrimp. Watch carefully and let it reduce by half or until it coats the back of a spoon. Season to taste and finish with butter.

Slice the chicken on the diagonal and serve over a fresh bed of spinach or some nice pasta with the shrimp and sauce. There isn’t a whole lot of color on this old girl, so give her some fresh thyme and tarragon for garnish. 

Enjoy this dish with good friends, and a cold, crisp bottle of white wine:-)

Does anyone out there have the bad habit of going ape shit crazy the first night of a vacation?  Hello Las Vegas!!

If you follow me on FB, you may have read that I walked out of Sin City with actual cash dollars in my pocket! That is a novelty indeed. What is not novel, is me jumping up and down and pointing at all the delicacies awaiting me with a strong cocktail in my hand. What is novel, is the apparent really bad choice in footwear. What is not novel is the fact that I came prepared with a Swiss army knife and a packet of band-aids.

Got you hooked, yet? Thought so….

Ahhh, Vegas. The strip of land just east and south of the airport that entices people to do things they would hardly (operative word – hardly) do in their own back yards; especially if your car is shrink wrapped with a your logo AND a picture.  Anyhoo – as the saying goes, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”  Well, not necessarily – I’ve got some nice little tidbits to share – as long as you enter your year of birth, you can continue reading.

We made a few runs to Reno and Vegas with my folks back in the day and it was always a dress-up affair and wonderfully exciting. To say the very least, things have changed! It seems the “great unwashed” have taken over the once elegant Caesar’s Palace in their crew shorts, a ball cap and a wife beater. Add to that ensemble a ½ gallon, plastic drink container strapped-on like a canteen and you’ve got a whole team of winners. I swore I wouldn’t succumb. Yes, the shoes were a bad choice but at least I dressed for dinner and the show – my mother would be proud.

A lovely room at The Bellagio was the perfect surprise to me.  Thank you Darling!  Although t-shirts and cut-off shorts were still in view, the atmosphere as a whole was timeless. Lunch time was nigh, I was hungry and thirsty so we opted for The Noodle – an unassuming Asian joint on the property. It smelled good and was filled with Asians – all things point to yummy.  We met Markus the manager. Markus is a native Malay/Chinese from SE Asia, a whiskey aficionado, and all-round funny guy.

Dim sum was flying by and he made sure we got the authentic goods. He suggested the Macau Iced Tea made with Sake, Takara Shochu, Midori, Bacardi Light Rum, Fresh Lemon Juice and Ginger Beer. It was nuclear green and very tasty! Dave was thrilled with the selection of Bao and I was tickled to see my beloved Xiao Long Bao on the menu. We pigged out, caught a slight buzz and shared some laughs with Markus…nap time!

Great mattresses and a big tub=Happy Heidi and all was well with the world.  There was just that one little thing tickling and nagging at the back of my throat which says, “You’re gonna be sick tomorrow – in a big way!”  Well, if I’m gonna be sick, might as well make it count. I’m ain’t no quitter.

After dressing for dinner, we grabbed the perfect table at La Fontana to watch the water show. So, there I was, sitting at a bistro on the shores of Lake Como, completely away and unaware of it all. The fountains dance occurs every 30 minutes and are well worth a wait and a watch!  We shared a few glasses of wine and this killer take on caprese salad with marinated peppers and artisan breads. Not bad for $250.00 bucks. Let’s go eat some more!

Todd English’s “Olives” just happened to have a few spots left open at the bar – lucky us – because we had 3 hours to kill until “Crazy Horse Burlesque” at the MGM Grand. The boys behind the bar: Bernie, Gilbert and the other cute one (brain freeze) were wonderful and really, really nice. Really, really nice in Vegas?  Novel!  Not to mention the service and the food which were exceptional! Asparagus, morel mushroom and prosciutto flatbread and a trio of tapenades with more tasty breads.  Nibble, nibble, drink, drink. Into the cab we went to MGM and Crazy Horse Burlesque.

I was completely unprepared and so wonderfully surprised by thisg show.  You have to see it to believe it AND appreciate it.  So, there I was, jumping up and down and pointing. This particular behavior pattern lasted for quite some time that night and into the morning.  I woke up all tingly, sober and sick as hell. After a quick and delicious breakfast by the pool, it was time for cold medicine and bed….all day long…….

Naturally, I rallied and that night, we had more food at Olive’s and Bobby Flay’s Mesa Grill. I wasn’t so impressed with Bobby’s Chile Relleno, but the dude next to me gave me a bite of his 24 ounce bone-in Rib-Eye. Nibble, nibble, drink, drink. From there we snagged some great seats and saw Matthew Goss put on a good show.  I did some dancing with my darling and, at  midnight, as per usual, I turned into a pumpkin and passed out.

Of course, all good things must come to an end, and it was time to go home—but not before carrying on the family tradition! We picked up a $25.00 chip, placed it on the lucky family roulette number, spun the wheel and she paid out 35/1! I tipped the captain $25.00, we bought one last drink and bade farewell to the Strip.

Did I have fun?  Are you kidding?  Am I still sick – you betcha!  Did you get the whole story – no way in hell!!

Alright, I need a little help solving this one: When (and WHY) did the most popular cooking channel in America decide that its target audience consists of people over the age of 50 (which I’m not)? There I was, curled up with my lap-top, watching a little food TV, when my eyes were suddenly assaulted by geriatric advertisements: There were AARP-endorsed beverages that delay muscle loss so you don’t get “soft”; pills to enhance memory retention so we don’t forget where we live; and ergonomic beds so your feet don’t swell during the night (i.e. elimination of the frightening “cankle” issue). “Seriously?” I thought, “Who are these marketing people and why don’t they want me to be hungry?”

Then, as if to add insult to injury (As only the big networks can get away with) the voice in the TV says: “Up next… Jaime at Home: Wild Game!” 

Oh wait–now I get it; hot, young chef, post-menopausal women, insinuation of a “hunt.” Still not catching on? Here, I’ll translate advertisement-ese for you: “Alright, Cougars–grab your spanks because Jaime’s sizzlin’ today!” Sneaky, marketing people.

I absolutely abhor getting older and no one can tell me differently. My feet hurt, I’m tired a lot, I sometimes fall asleep in my chair….

Disembodied voice: Hey! Hold on a minute! 

Me:  Um, who are you and what are you doing in my head? 

Voice: I’m you, you stupid git (must be channeling a bit of that Jaime Oliver accent). 

Me: Well, if we intend to continue conversing in this manner, let’s make it official, shall we?

Voice (Other Me): Of course. And what do you suppose my name should be?

Me: Um, Happy Heidi?

Happy Heidi:  Perfect! Now, get up and make me a cocktail!

Me:  Oh, right, it’s nearly 3:00 p.m. on Sunday. I wonder if that oversight might be contributing to my lament?

Happy Heidi: Of course it is. Now turn that show back on, Jaime’s in Greece making Wicked Kebabs!

Me:  Yes, he’s waxing poetic about the Parthenon which is built upon the famed Acropolis of Athens. Only problem is he can’t seem to illicit its date of origin (447 BC) or the name of the antique grill he’s using to cook his Suvlaki…and

Happy Heidi: Back up sister! You didn’t know the date of Parthenon’s erection (giggle) and you still haven’t figured out the name of the grill thingy. I heard you ask Dave and then go look it up, cheater. 

Me:  Shhhhh – who do you think you are?

Happy Heidi: Are you kidding me?  I’m the one that pushes you out the door on Thursdays to meet the folks behind the scenes – to come to know them, eat, imbibe, and learn. I’m that girl who makes you exercise so you can enjoy really great food (sans cankles); who reaches out to people you’ve never met before to find a new friend. I’m the young woman who lies in your heart. You know, the one who sings at the drop of a hat, points and jumps when you taste (or drink) something extraordinary, and loves her job!  You know, I’m kind of bored with this and you seem distracted, maybe I’ll just leave…

Me: No wait, I’m sorry–don’t leave! I just got all hyped up watching Jaime doing things I did many moons ago but not on TV!

Happy Heidi: I’m assuming they’re PG-13? Even my reputation has limits.

Me: Sicko!  No, it’s just that you know when you did something really cool and have forgotten just how exciting it all was?  Your friends and family lived vicariously through your breathless long distance phone calls from Gibraltar and framed that picture of you and your friends, grilling fresh fish over an open flame on the beach, the turquoise waters of the Mediterranean as a backdrop; some fresh sliced mango, a bottle of Pine Nut wine and a crayola colored boat.  I guess I’m glad I suffered the advertisements – I feel pretty good!

Happy Heidi: That’s my girl!  Now go make me that drink and tell me what’s for dinner.

Me:  OK, and thanks for that little boost – you can be quite nice when you want to be.

Happy Heidi: Pssst! She’s gone…Geez, I hope she has Grey Goose. Anyway, just so you know, I didn’t find any Ensure, “Blue Pills,” or an Elevated Mattress in here, but maybe they’re in the shed with the Reader’s Digests and the cats.