Cooking for Fun

I made tilapia with a dill, lemon sauce and fresh green beens, frenched in the food processor with sweet onion and sliced almonds for dinner tonight.  My "fella I love" has been telling me I should write a food blog.  Not an adjunct to my blog, but an ACTUAL food blog.

Not sure I'm ready to do that at this juncture, as I'm crazy busy with work, wedding plans, new house decisions, moving and trying to get out kayaking a few times before the snow flies.

Here is a picture of the finished plate:

The sauce is minced garlic, a couple of Tablespoons of dill (I buy the dill in the tube in the fresh herb section when they are on sale), 3 Tablespoons-ish of olive oil, juice of one lemon, a LOT of fresh pepper. salt, and mayonnaise as well as a bit of left over cream cheese and a bit of milk to get the last of the mayo out of the jar.  Added some kosher salt just to bring the flavors out.  Chilled that while I prepared and baked the tilapia.

I heavily salted the water and once it boiled, added a couple of cups of fresh beans.  I chopped off the ends, sized them, laid them in the food processor chute on the horizontal and ran them through with the chopper blade attachment.  I then boiled them for about 6 minutes, drained them into a colander to stop the cooking without rinsing (didn't want them cold).  Put it in a large bowl, drizzled a bit of olive oil, added a couple pats of butter and tossed.  Then I tossed in lots of sliced almond and dropped it in a casserole dish for serving.

Baked the tilapia on foil covered cookie sheet for about 13 minutes at 425 degrees.  Added the sauce and had a lovely white wine standing by to enjoy.

That was dinner tonight.  Also used the food processor to cut 2 cucumbers and a half a large sweet onion, whisked together 1/2 cup of sugar, 1 cup of white vinegar, 1/2 cup warm water, I Tablespoon freshly ground pepper, 1 teaspoon kosher salt and 1/2 teaspoon of celery seeds, whisk until sugar dissolves and add 1 1/2 cups cold water.  Cover the cucumbers and onions in a glass bowl with the dressing and refrigerate overnight.

Dentists

I had a tooth pulled today.  They offered me headphones and gas.  I said, “No, thank you.  I’m not nervous.  I had a great dentist as a kid.”

Bless Dr. Ryan, my childhood dentist.  He was wonderful.  I used to watch him work on my teeth in his glasses.  He inspired trust and confidence.  He shook your lip when he gave you the shot . . . I had no idea there was a needle involved until I was much older.

He had short dark hair and big dark framed glasses.  He had a gentle manner and made me glad to be a brave girl.  He set me up for a lifetime of confidence that has rarely been misplaced.

Thank you Dr. Ryan (and thank you to my parents for the great dental work that I’m sure was tough to afford as young parents)!

Promises

I’ve been thinking about promises. . .

. . .  specifically the reprehensible kind.

If you make a promise and, upon reflection, realize that it’s not an honorable promise:  what is your responsibility then?  Keep it?  Regardless of it’s impact on others?

I’m not sure.

I’ve made some promises that I regretted.  Broken some that I shouldn’t have and some that needed breaking.  Had some broken that were made to me. 

Permit me some background on these thoughts. 

My mother painted a picture of the beautiful place where she placed her father’s ashes.  It meant enough to her that she memorialized it in color.  She pasted a detailed map on the back of exactly the vista where she consecrated him.  That says, to me, that the spot meant something for her.

The man to whom her husband entrusted everything they owned and her remains promised never to reveal where he interred her to our family.  Feels the definition of a reprehensible promise to me.  So, not only is that information lost to me.  It’s lost to my family forever.

Is that not the definition of reprehensible?

Grandpa's Spot

Dad's Touchstone

I sent my father a new Petoskey stone.   Some years ago I gave him one that someone I had helped gave to me.  He carried it in his pocket.  It was unpolished but Dad polished it, over time, just touching it. 


He recently lost it . . . I found him another. Mailing it made me think about my touchstone.  What brings me peace in the times when things are hardest?  


One of the best for me is his voice. It’s simply the sound of Dad’s voice.  Certainly, we disagree about many, many things.  It’s not what he says, more just the deep timbre and cadence of the way he talks. 


That voice has always been there and I followed it home. 


Once from the brink of blackness, that fuzzy edge where the world drops away.

Once from real blackness . . . . softly speaking to me in ICU.



Often, unknown to him, in the night when the aloneness reigns.


So, Dad has his new stone to polish, and as often as his fingers touch the stone to put it in his pocket, I will hear his voice in my head.

A Day at the Dog Park

We are not an experts but these are a few things that Dexter, Wilbur and I have learned:

• Dog park people are easy to know.  I think that's probably because there are subjects for conversation swirling around you all the time.
• The little dogs are not the safest to play with.
• You must not stand there oblivious while they play or you can be plowed over as if you've been hit by a truck.
• The dog park has no class system.  Your dog doesn't care who anyone is or whether the people like each other.
• Immediate clean up on aisle . . . everywhere. . . all the time!
• Please squirrels - stay away.  It can really, really ruin a good time if you get brave.
• A ball, thrown over the fence, can be a fun "team building" exercise.
• Wearing 3 sets of sweatpants and 2 sweaters with a coat that looks like a sofa and your hair slopped up on your head is the height of fashion!  
• Talented dogs are applauded at the dog park.

How can something disappear that quickly?

I've been looking for my glasses . . . all morning.  Finally put my contacts in - still no sign of them.  How can I have them one moment and they are ether the next?  

I've lost my keys, my ipod, my phone and a candy bar that I KNOW I bought last time I was in the store.  


One of my favorite books for awhile, as a child, was The Borrowers.  It had charming, tiny people who lived about the house and "borrowed" things that seemingly disappeared.  A button, a key, a thimble?  They've taken it to close a purse, use for a table or bed.  I loved the idea of making sense from the senseless.


I have been looking for one set of keys for about a month.  I know they are here . . . somewhere . . . mocking me.  They will be in the last place I look.  Just love that expression.  What kind of person will keep looking after they've found something?


I believe that the keys and the glasses have joined forces and are gaslighting me.  They chortle, they are amused at my befuddled searching.  


They should be joined by the fog that lives in the kitchen.  Sometimes I enter and it steals the very thing I planned to do right from my brain.

If I had known that the last time I saw you WAS the last time . . .

This is what you looked like the last time I saw you.  All blonde, blue-eyed, sweet faces.   I remember, so clearly, the day I met you.  The smiles in your eyes lit my heart.  You loved teaching me cards.  How you sat on the bed and watched me put on makeup and sat on my lap.

So fun, the time I first took you to the store.  Meghan wanted a toy.  It was an elephant but was really for dogs.  It said Milkbone on the side.  Taylor teased . . . I bought it for you anyway.

I remember the hard things too.  I’ll never forget the night Brandon had to stay home with me.  What I told you that night is still true. 

There is nothing you can do . . . ever . . . that will make me love you less.  No matter how much we disagree, no matter who says what to anyone, I promised each of you that I would love you all of my life.  I will.   If I never see you again, makes not the slightest bit of difference, I will always be here . . . loving you.

Thousands of memories.  Birthday cakes of purple, pink and red.  Sunday morning early cocoa and bacon! 

Flying kites, ice cream at Moo's, festivals and all the laughter.  Cookouts with friends, movies and holidays.

There is really no Christmas
for me without you . . .