The Week That Was....

Hope  you are enjoying the Memorial Day Weekend...

Not surprisingly, 

it is cold in Chicago...  

We dreamed about getting away from the chill, 

even driving south to Springfield 

to learn about Abe Lincoln 

and to bask in seventy degrees of warmth...  

Then we remembered the kids had obligations 

they could not miss... 

 Rats!  

So, instead, we are cashing in a few air miles 

for our own "sleep over" at a nice hotel downtown... 

No kids, just me and T$...

Yippee! 

I guess T$'s endless travels 

have some benefits...  

 

I have learned a few things this week:

1.  When you think the deal is done, 

it ain't until the other guys sign 

on the dotted line...

I know this from my years in real estate, 

but T$ and I got too emotionally vested 

in a big UAE deal...

Bad idea...

2. May 25th is far too early to break out 

the summer wardrobe...

It's FREEZING here!  What the hell....??

3.  Take my advice and outsource the cleaning 

of kitchen ceiling fans....

It is way too disgusting to do yourself...

Wow, when you turn off the fan,

 the greasy build up is shocking...

Cleaning it was pure nastiness...

4.  Cooking mussels is left for the professionals 

unless you like sandy grit in every bite...

The nice man at New England Seafood Company 

said to de-beard (don't ask) 

and scrub each mussel...  

I thought I did that 

and made a lovely Malaysian Mussel stew 

only to nearly break off my molars on tiny grits of gravel and sand...  

So much for making mussels at home...

5. I will never like or trust carnivals...

We took the kids to the annual local carnie fest 

and Kate is now big enough for the scarey rides...  

I became nauseous as she boarded rides 

I was certain would fling her to her premature death... 

Once I rode "The Octopus" with a friend at the Kewanee Fair 

and the door almost came open, mid flight...  

Scared the bejeesus out of us...  

Haven't trusted those damn carnivals ever since 

and now with kids, they give me nightmares...  

No matter, the kids survived with smiles...

6.  A weekend free of kids sports is a beautiful thing...

No baseball and no hockey... Woo Hoo!

7.  Mr. Bubble still rocks, notwithstanding all those childhood 

urinary tract infections.  

They made the best bubble baths...

They must have made the formula milder now, 

because after a couple of UTI's, 

Mom stopped buying Senore Bubble for me as a kid...

8.  Lard makes pie awesome...  

Holy cow!  

Never again will I use just butter or Crisco...  

Lard is the way to an unbelievably tender, flaky crust, 

hands down...

I am now officially on a pie tear!

9.  Nothing, I mean nothing reeks worse than hockey equipment...

The bowels of hell are a walk on Febreze Lane 

compared to opening your son's hockey bag...  

You will swear he has dumped a dead body in there, 

or at least a skunk's corpse...  

10.  Even a really shitty week smooths out to a happy ending with T$ 

by my side and a good glass of wine...

Sometimes a hug from the right person 

is the best medicine...

Yesterday, I made my very first Banana Cream Pie...  

Ohhhh, was it fresh and tasty!  

The recipe comes from The The Joy of Cooking...

This is a pie to try!!!

This pie can be made with a regular pie crust or a graham cracker crust. 

 I went the graham route this time....

Banana Cream Pie, courtesy of The Joy of Cooking

Banana Cream Pie
Prepare:
	A baked pie shell
In top of double boiler combine:
	2/3 cup sugar 1/2 cup all-purpose flour 1/2 tsp. salt
Add, stir and cook over - not in - boiling water 10 minutes or until mixture thickens:
	2 cups milk
Remove from heat. Beat slightly in a separate bowl:
	3 egg yolks
Stirring well, pour half of hot mixture into eggs. When smooth, return eggs to rest of hot mixture and cook until thickened. Remove from heat and add:
	2 tablespoon butter 2 tsp. vanilla
Cool slightly before turning into the crust. Meanwhile peel and slice thinly:
	2 ripe bananas
Place them in the baked pie shell. Pour the filling over them. Cover with plastic wrap and chill at least two hours.
Cover it with:
	1/2 pint whipped cream

Blueberry Pie...

With the calamity of the Moore tornado this week, 

it seems like there is little those of us living far away 

can do beyond donating money 

to reputable charities like the Red Cross...

Certainly, every monetary donation 

will do good...  

But others, those closer to the disasters, 

sometimes find a way to provide much needed
comfort through food... 

Like making pie...

Beth Howard is a "Piethanropist" of sorts...  

She found her own solace in pie making 

after her husband's sudden and tragic death 

from an aortic rupture...  

She just wrote a book about her experience, too...

Last year, after the terrible massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School, 

Beth loaded up her "The World Needs More Pie" RV 

and headed from Iowa to Connecticut to make 

and serve pies...  

The  Newtown community embraced her desire to help 

and many assisted with loving hands...  

All told, Beth and the local folks baked hundreds of pies 

to supply to wakes, funerals, community meetings 

and to first responders...  

Beth was mentioned in this article,
which includes some excellent stories of people 

coming together, amid tragedy, 

to feed those hurting...  

Today, I felt like making pie, too...  

To nourish my kids, mainly...

To give love, "from scratch"...  

A bubbling, purple hug with a creamy ala' mode kiss on top...  

It felt good to mix the dough by hand, 

with bits of butter and lard dotting the flour landscape...  

It was therapeutic to roll out the chilled dough,

between two sheets of parchment,
carefully laying the thin sheet into the pie plate...  

Simple ingredients to fill; blueberries, sugar, flour, 

lemon juice, salt and nutmeg...  

The top crust was brushed with a beaten egg 

to ensure nice browning... 

A quick dusting of cinnamon and sugar 

for a sweet crunch...  

Some say you are not supposed
to heal wounds with food...  

That is what the nutrition police will warn you...  

Certainly kids should not gorge themselves 

with a box of Ding Dongs every time 

they have a bad day...

But now and then, a hot and satisfying dish, 

be it home-made macaroni and cheese, fried chicken, 

or pasta bolognese, can soothe a broken soul, 

even for just a short while...  

There is no doubt that I show love
through cooking and baking...

I hope my young ones will feel the warmth of my hugs 

as they dig into a fat slice of blueberry pie....

Here are the recipes for pie crust and the blueberry pie...

Thank you, Pioneer Woman!

I sort of morphed the crust directions, 

using the pie crust tutorial ingredients 

and the blueberry pie recipe for baking it...

  

Enjoy!

Cosmic Collision...

It almost didn't happen...  

We came one dust laden Q-Tip away 

from spinning into different orbits...

 

That's when I wonder if things are meant to be;

 if the fates puppet us around in this life 

or if dumb luck is in play 

with what direction we end up careening...  

It had been about ten days

since T$ and I met at the Rock Bottom Brewery...  

After a plate of nachos and a few beers, 

T$ declared he was going to

 "Take me to Vegas and marry me!"...  

A brash announcement, given we had known each other 

about seventy-five minutes at that point... 

Two spit swappin' sessions in the car 

and a little over a week later, 

T$ invited me to meet his best friend and others 

 in the Gold Coast for dinner and drinks...  

I was excited...  

T$ was upbeat, handsome 

and he made me feel so comfortable, 

unlike the neurotic guys I had been seeing of late...  

Having been in the dating jungle for about ten years,

there were some stories to tell...

Most of them not good...

Our date was on a Saturday in April 

and I spent most of the morning

doing some spring cleaning of my tiny apartment...  

I got a bit OCD and even cleaned the phone 

with a Q-Tip soaked in rubbing alcohol...   

 Long before T$ was due to pick me up, 

I chose my outfit and primped for this important evening...  

After all, I was meeting his best friend 

and their close buddies! 

This was super scrutiny...  

I had to pass the test...  

After getting dressed, there was time to spare, 

so I watched Seinfeld reruns as the late afternoon

 turned to evening...  

Since we had just met, 

there was no way to know if T$

 was the punctual type...  

His arrival time came and there was no buzz 

from the apartment entrance...  

Fifteen minutes passed, and I started to wonder...  

Thirty minutes and worry gnawed at me...  

Was I being stood up?  

T$ did not seem like that kind of guy...  

He was so sweet, so real...  

I didn't want to call him, 

because it would be too humiliating

 if he WAS blowing me off...  

Forty five minutes later... 

 I looked out the window...  

No white Tahoe...
  

Even though the phone didn't ring,

 I reflexively went over to check 

the answering machine for messages...  

The message light blinked 3!  

I listened to the first message 

and T$ said he was downstairs,

 ringing my buzzer...

HUH???

There was no buzz! 

 I was sitting five feet from the intercom!

Second message stated that now he was across the street, 

at the cafe, waiting to see if I would come home...  

My apartment was dark 

because I was just waiting for him 

to arrive while watching TV...  

Third message went something like this,

 "Lori, this is Tom.  I guess you aren't home.  

I thought we were going out tonight.  

Oh well, see you around..."  

See you around???  

That is the man phrase for "You have just been dumped!!!"  

I felt sick, realizing that my freakish cleaning routine 

had inadvertently turned off the phone ringer 

AND the front door buzzer must have broken

 in the last 24 hours...  

How could such a coincidence of events 

have such a dramatic impact on my love life?!  

I decided that I needed to take this situation 

into my own hands and I called T$...  

He was rather frosty on the phone 

and let me know that if I wished to join him and his friends

 I could find my own way
to meet them in the city...  

I grabbed my purse and ran to hail a cab...  

My heart was beating fast 

as I mentally searched for a way

 to repair the damage that had been done...  

What did Tom tell his friends?  

Did they now hate me?  

Would I have struck out early in the game? 

 Unfortunately for me, I did not have much cash in my wallet

and I had to jump out of the taxi

 four blocks away once the fare reached my limit...  

I ran the whole way to Mary's condo...  

All eyes fell on me as I entered the room, 

gasping for air...  

Smiling nervously, I recounted the story, 

hoping they would believe the ridiculousness of the

 "Three's Company" scenario...  

Well, by the time I finished my second glass of wine, 

T$ had his arm around me

 and the warm hospitality of his friends 

made me feel accepted...  

Given that T$ had been involved
with a psycho case or two in his past, 

his pals were understandably protective... 

 To learn that I was somewhat normal (hah!) 

came as a relief, I guess...  

Over fourteen years later, T$'s dear friends 

are also my cherished pals...  

We still laugh about that evening 

where I almost wasn't the one...  

I guess the planets were aligned, after all...

Oh, and by the way, T$ did take me to Vegas

 and marry me...

Lawn Boy...

You may recall a post last month

about getting the kids to take on 

chores around the house....  

There was some fear and trepidation, 

on my part, regarding rebellion, consistency 

and my own ability to follow through...  

We are now nineteen days 

into the first month of "Operation Help Out", 

and I have to say, so far, 

things are going according to plan...  

Month One is about keeping bedrooms tidy

every day...  

While Jack complained at the outset 

and a couple of times he didn't care 

if he lost a dollar for the day, 

overall, the rooms have stayed neat 

and picked up...

  

I wonder if the kids realize that the road 

to a disastrous bedroom is the daily accumulation 

of clutter...  

If their rooms stay picked up, 

then the gradual foolishness cannot grow 

into a crap-filled rat hole...  

Probably, they are simply annoyed 

with having to attend to their bedrooms daily, 

but I don't care...  

Their rooms are thrillingly tidy...  

I figure the message will sink in
when they are about 35...   

June is "Keep A Bathroom Clean" month...

  

I started planting seeds with Kate yesterday, 

as I demonstrated how to 

deep clean the bathroom she uses

 and what goes into a daily "wipe and swipe"...  

I purchased safe bathroom cleaning products 

and placed them in personal caddies

 in each of the bathrooms

the kids will be responsible for keeping up... 

Kate was psyched to use the sprays and scrubs 
to make the biffy sparkle...  

Jack, however, scoffed and declared

 he was NOT going to clean any johns...  

I explained to him that his precious jar of cash 

was tied to bathroom cleanliness next month, 

which he did not appreciate...  

Once he learned that the deep clean 

was required just once a week
and that the daily wipe and swipe 

were quick and minimal, 

I could see glimmers of acceptance... 

I will hold onto that smidgen of agreement
until June 1 arrives...  

Last weekend, his dad added lawn work
to Jack's repertoire 

of new chores and at first it looked 

like full mutiny was on deck...  

T$ was patient as he taught an irritable Jack 

the safety hints for using an electric mower and edger...  

Despite his initial crappy attitude, 

I could see Jack begin to enjoy

 working with loud machinery...  

The lawn was a bit of a hack job, 

but it was fine for a first effort...  

That was over a week ago 

and today was the day

 for Jack to tackle the lawn by himself...  

Let me preface this by saying 

the total square footage 

of our front and back lawns 

equal a miniscule model of Lichtenstein...  

Tom used to mow lawns 

at his dad's factory in Ohio 

that were the size of a football field...  

As a kid, I used to mow our large expanse of grass, 

hills included, with a heavy gas push mower...  

Jack's task is lilliputian in comparison...  

Anyway, today I helped him 

pull the equipment from the garage 

and then he was on his own, 

with me supervising, of course...  

It was encouraging to see Jack attempt
to mow carefully, with straight lines...  

He took pride in his workmanship, 

which is ultimately the goal, right?

He can boast to his friends, 

who aren't allowed to use can openers yet, 

that he mows the lawn...  

He can say he wields a weed whacker with finesse 

and that he is contemplating

 starting his own lawn service...  

All of this makes me want to 

jump for joy!

This was the whole reason for opening myself 

to the pain of arguments and whining...  

Getting my kids to feel confident doing tasks 

that will help them in adulthood...   

Okay, so I am celebrating too early...  

There are months of other jobs, 

chores and projects to accomplish, 

but the beginning looks promising...

 

I'll keep ya posted!

Strawberry Jam...

 

Canning and preserving...

For some people,
canning conjures up images of Great Aunt Matilda,
in a calico dress and apron,
sweating like a June bride
 over a steaming pot of canning jars,
mountains of tomatoes
heaped impatiently on the sticky kitchen counter...

 "Canned veggies are cheap at the SafeWay," some may say...

And I agree 99.9 percent of the time...

But sometimes, the thought of preserving fruits and vegetables
speaks of farmers markets, fresh goodness
and a little Laura Ingalls Wilder,
rolled up into one...



Did you read her books?

Remember how descriptively she wrote
how Ma cooked and put up all the foodstuffs
to load the cellar and pantry for the winter?

It fascinated me as a child...

I think I read the whole series about five times...

Kate and I are beginning the read the Laura series
at bedtime and I can't tell if
 she gives a rat's butt yet about them or not...

Anyway, my next door neighbor,
best friend since 4th grade
and all around amazing wonderful person,
Chris, was jonesing to make strawberry jam...

She has a foodie sister and I think years ago
they made a whole slew of the jam
that was awesome...

For the past couple of years or so,
Chris will mention a "Jam a Thon"
around strawberry season...

We are enthusiastic
and then baseball practices
and camps get in the way...

So, we forget about making the jam
until the next spring...

This year, Chris was more persistent...
"C'mon, Benson, let's make jam this year!"

Any time I spend with Chris is a good time,
so we finally nailed down a date
to get to jammin'...

With such a short window of kid-less time,
we did not pick the berries at a farm...

Costco was our source...



Don't judge...

There are limits to our sustainable foraging...

Speaking of sustainable foraging,
Chris texted me the other day
to tell me she found morel mushrooms
for sale at the local farmers market...

I got excited until she said
they were one dollar APIECE!

Jeez...you need about 40
to make a decent appetizer at the very least...

Oh well....



Anyway, we "sourced" the berries, bought loads of sugar,
pectin and lemons, mason jars, canning tongs
and we assembled the equipment...

Making strawberry jam is very easy...

You just have to possess the right equipment
 and must devote an entire day make it worth your while...



Together, we bought the canning jars...

I bought a canning funnel and canning tongs....

Without those two key utensils,
filling the jars and extracting them from the boiling water
would have been difficult...



We used the Pioneer Woman's recipe,
which you can find here  and here...

As I mentioned, it took all day to make forty or so jars
of the most delicious jam
you have ever licked off your fingers...

Each batch takes about seven cups of sugar,
so how can it taste bad, right?

The best part of the endeavor
was the uninterrupted hours we had to chat,
laugh and to solve the world's problems...

It was a humdinger of a week...

The kind where rotten things kept happening
and the domino effect was getting me down...

To be honest,
I didn't really feel like making jam at all...

But friend therapy is the best kind sometimes
and by the end of the afternoon,
I felt a whole lot better...

Maybe it was the feeling of accomplishment,
having finally made that strawberry jam...

Or maybe it was hanging with my sister,
mashing berries, filling jars and talking it all out...
 

Maybe my Prozac comes in the form of jam!