Food for a Foodie

As a part-time Caterer, I spend a lot of time in the kitchen experimenting with recipes.  Mickey has the sometimes unenviable task of "Food Taster".  Not everything turns out perfect the first (few) time(s).  But eventually, it will turn out perfect.   I've never made a recipe that I didn't alter.

There was this FABULOUS restaurant that opened near us called Pesquera's.  It was made literally from a boat.  We loved it.  Where we live, there is a glut of tacky Tex-Mex restaurants, a few Chinese restaurants (that don't deliver), and several "home cooking" dives.  When we found Pesquera's, we were thrilled to find this up-scale eatery.  It had a great wine selection, awesome trout almondine, perfectly cooked steaks, oyster shooters, a delicious Rosemary Hamburger, and the best White Chocolate Bread Pudding that I have still not been able to emulate. 

They were in business for just over a year with this fantastic menu, when the economy and the cheesy clientele dictated that they scale down their menu.  They changed from sit down and order, to walk up to the counter and order and take a number.

Okay, not so swanky.  But, despite MUCH of the fare being cheaper, they still carried my trout.  And even though oyster shooters were no longer on the menu, the owners would make it for us if we asked.  And they still had AWESOME bread pudding.

But poor Pesquera's, in this scaled-down state, hung onto life support for another six months before they finally were forced to pull the plugs.  We were very saddened by this turn of events.

Then a new owner took over.  They kept the sign the same outside, same decorations inside, but named the restaurant "Big Daddy's Seafood."  And the parking lot was CRAMMED with cars every night of the week.  We figured that, even though the name of the restaurant is kind of white trash, MAYBE, if the gorge of the parking lot is any indication, the food must be good.

You would think so, right?

Wrong.  WRONG, WRONG, WRONG.  We went there last night.  The menu (on laminated paper) is miniscule.  They served stuffed jalapenos (fried), raw oysters, fried oysters, fried catfish, fried tilapia, grilled tilapia, shrimp (fried and grilled), chicken strips, salad, gumbo and peach cobbler.  That was IT.

Our waitress was clueless, complete with a blank, deer-in-the-headlights, lost stare.  I'll call her "Bambie".  It might have been Bambie's first day at work.  She asked me what I wanted to drink and I asked her what kind of wine they had.  Again, the blank, scared look, followed by stammering and she walked off, bringing me back a very small, "unpretentious" wine list (on laminated paper).  I ordered a glass of the only Cabernet they offered.  It arrived in a tiny, screw-top bottle.

There were also very few side dishes.  They had a house salad, french fries and cole slaw.  I asked Bambie how the cole slaw was and she said, "the cole slaw is great."  I asked her if it was mayo based or vinegar and she said, "I think mayo."

I asked her how the grilled Tilapia was, and she confessed that she doesn't eat fish.  I ended up ordering raw oysters (despite the BP spill in the Gulf), and a house salad with Ranch dressing.  The dressing was a packet of Newman's.  The salad greens were entirely iceburg.  Mickey's cole slaw was mostly mayonnaise and very little cabbage (with NO hint of vinegar).  Mickey had a cup of Gumbo that was mostly black oil (maybe from the Gulf) with a few strands of dark meat chicken.

It was the most awful meal we've had in years - second only to the odd Ohio phenomena called Skyline Chili.  Mickey and I were sharing our mutual critique on the drive home.  Not one of those dishes would have received my Seal of Approval at home.  And not a chance in Hell I would have served any of that swill to a paying customer. 

Yet the place was PACKED.  Much more than Pesquera's ever was.  I guess the lesson learned here is, to know your clientele.  If what they want to eat is boring, bland, little kid food, then you can get rich providing it for them.

As for me and Mickey, we won't be going back to Big Daddy's.

I Miss my G-Babes!!!!

It's so difficult being 1,500 miles away.  I only get to see my little Darlings twice a year - Christmas and in the Summer. 

Adrianna had no teeth and could barely crawl when I saw her last.  Now she has 6 teeth and can walk on her own (although she seems to prefer crawling still).

Kaelen is smart and beautiful.  James has her trained to say, "Yes, ma'am," and "No, ma'am," and "Please" and "Thank you."  She has very good manners for a 6 year old.  Scratch that.  She has better manners than most grown-ups I know.  She is so good with her little sister - not a jealous older sibling at all. 

While there, they had a group Birthday Party.  Adrianna's birthday was in May.  My birthday was yesterday.  Tina's birthday is in 2 weeks, and Kaelen's birthday is in 3 weeks.  So while everyone was there, they rented a jumpy house, put out a water slide, and invited about 25 of their closest friends over.  I made a cake. 

I have to say, these Special Forces guys are such honorable guys.  They're all very respectful towards me.  They are the creme de la creme of the Army.  And it shows.  Everyone is a Team Player.  And while a few guys got wasted, not one of them was an Asshole. 

My friend Dee drove there from Raleigh.  I love Dee.  We're scheming to have a FUPFest get-together in this area.  Her husband Chris WILL comply.  Yes, he will.  Or we will burn his drawers in a fire and then he will bleed from his rectum.  Don't ask me how I know this.  I just do.

Dee thinks that my son James looks like Brad Pitt.  And I have to agree.

Speaking of James, here he is with Adrianna.  James is a Special Forces Medic attached to the Scuba team.  James is literally the top 3% of the entire Army.  He's about to be E7 and he's only 25 years old.  I spoke with one of his SF buddies there (KJ), who told me that James is afraid of his Mom (me).  "Afraid" in a good way, which translates to respect in their world.  He told me that he admires James and hopes to achieve the same status, that James is very squared away, is a good family man, and he's one of the smartest guys he's ever met.

You'd never guess this at first glance.  James hides his nerdiness well.  I'm so proud of my little boy.

While we were there, Tina (my daughter-in-law) took me to a tattoo parlor in town.  When I told the artist what I wanted and where, warned me that this was the MOST PAINFUL AREA TO GET A TATTOO.  I laughed and said, "Bring it on!"  Then I sat and endured excrutiating pain for two hours.  It was way more painful that I thought it would be.  My toes were clinched tightly the entire time, and I gripped the mat so firmly that I left fingernail marks on it.  I want to reiterate that it hurt like HELL.  I wanted to cry but didn't.  When I got up, I was tired from the anxiety.  There was blood dripping from the flowers.  I couldn't wear a bra for three days.  Did I mention that it was was painful?

Mickey loved my new tat!

Yesterday was my birthday and after rain delays and getting in after midnight the night before, neither of us felt like doing anything so we just stayed in and got drunk.  heh, heh, hehhhhh!!!!

My little G-Babes are coming in one week from now to stay a week with us while James and Tina go to Mexico.  June has been an awesome month for me!

Burn! Burn! Burn!

Today I am feeling much better [cough! cough!].  The catering gig yesterday was a huge success.  I think I might even have a few referrals from it.  I was really worried about everything turning out okay.  I don't know why I worry, but sometimes I do.  Everyone raved over the food.   I was worried that there wouldn't be enough, but there were actually leftovers (which I packaged up for the customer).  Except for the cheese ~ the cheese practically vaporized.  Seems that the Graduation was at 1:30, requiring the Graduate and all of her family to get there by 11:30, which meant that no one ate lunch and were starving by the time they arrived.

Fortunately, the Mushroom Lasagna, Pastitsio, Polenta, Chicken Rollotini, and Salad were already prepared and just had to be set up.  I wish I had pictures of the Lasagna plated.  It looks so pretty with the white rows of cheese. 

It's always surprising how well Polenta is received.  It's such a simple food - basically corn meal mush - it's a staple in the Mediterranean.  It takes on other flavors so well.  You can make it sweet like a dessert (or more like Malt-O-Meal).  But I make mine with chicken broth, cream, garlic, basil and parmesan cheese.  Everyone says, "Mmmmmmm, what IS this?"   The customer didn't even know I was bringing Polenta.  But they didn't seem too upset about it.  I told her to take the cold leftovers, cut it into triangles and sautee them in olive oil for breakfast.  And serve with a fried egg on top.  Yum.

And I'll bet you were wondering, from the Title of this post, what it was that I burned.  I didn't.  Not yet.  Tonight I am going to burn some Bad Memories, some Loose Ends, some Lingering Dread, and some Nagging Doubts, in the fire pit in my back yard.  I'm hoping the Gods will send some good Karma in exchange for my offerings.  It's worked in the past.  FUP's Beware!  There's a full moon out tonight (that's a photo I took of the full moon).

I hate being Sick!

A couple days ago my throat started itching. I blamed it on Allergies, even though I've never really had Allergies. It's never too late to start, right?

Then yesterday my head started stopping up, and I thought, "Hmmmmm, runny nose is part of allergies, right?"

But then last night, my throat felt like I had gargled with gasoline (not that I've ever tried this, but I can imagine). My head was totally stopped up, and I felt like dog doo. I'm thinking now that instead of allergies, I have a cold or a flu. To make matters worse, Aunt Flo is visiting and not being a good house guest at all. I don't really remember even falling asleep. But I MUST have fallen asleep because I do distinctly remember being woken up at 1:30 a.m. by Mickey, who couldn't sleep and wanted someone to chat with.

After I put a pillow over my head and did my best to ignore Mickey, he got up and went into the living room. Lola went with him and asked to be let outside. Mickey said she ran around the back yard in the dark, ears flopping, with her unusual dopey lope. Then she scratched to be let back inside, went into the living room, squatted and peed a small river.

From my bedroom in the back of the house with a pillow still over my head, I can hear Mickey screaming and cussing and yelling to me that Lola had peed in the living room. I ignore this, too. For once, he can deal with the dogs, because after all, he apparently doesn't want to sleep and I, at this point, desperately need to sleep.

He put her in her crate. When I woke this morning at 9:00 a.m., the phone was ringing off the wall and Lola is whimpering to be let out.

Another day begins.

Our Little Boy Turns 2 Today!

 Two years ago today, Gunny was born.  Mickey went to the Breeder in College Station and there were 2 puppies left - a male and a female.  The Breeder said that the Female was the "pick of the litter" because she had good markings.  But when Mickey took the Female out of the crate, she was running around, digging and snapping and acting just generally crazy.  And there was Gunny, sleeping like a little Angel.

So Mickey picked Gunny instead.  We got him for a STEAL at $800.  And as soon as he made it home, Gunny began running around, digging and snapping and acting just generally crazy.  Seems he was just faking it for the viewers, as he had no doubt seen this work for the previous puppies who left to good homes.  He was a deceptively cute little puppy, but as soon as anyone reached out to pet him or pick him up, he would claw and bite with his razor sharp little teeth.  We began referring to him as our Pet Alligator.

The second day we had him he became sick and lethargic with a fever.  So we took him to the vet and, $400 later, found out that he had swallowed a rock.

At two months old, he began having oozing and bleeding skin rashes all over his body.  It took four months of treatments before the Demedex finally cleared up.  Seems that because he is a purebreed and also because he's white, he's very prone to sicknesses due to a naturally low immune system. 

At nine months old he began limping and then the limping became worse, to the point where he was holding up his left hind leg and trying to run on it.  Poor guy.  He had torn his ACL - an injury usually attributed to playing sports.  But in Gunny's case, we attribute it to him running around and generally acting crazy.  $1,500 and a surgery later, the leg is fixed, permanently.  We hope.

About the time Gunny turned a year old, we got his testicles removed (see photo left).  "They" had become somewhat problematic, in that Gunny was an aggressive "bully" to begin with.  But when I tried to get him into Doggy Daycare at the Pet Resort, he was expelled, with the suggestion that we should consider getting him neutered, because "Gunny was running and then ramming his body into the other dogs and humping all of them."  Oh, Gunny.    Incidentally, despite us getting his evil balls removed, the Pet Resort still wouldn't let him back into Daycare.  Apparently he made quite an impression.

Within a week of the ball removal surgery, I decided that it was now or never that we should get him a playmate.  Mickey and I really like Blue, James' Great Dane.  So I checked out some Great Dane breeders and found Lola, a female Blue Harlequin with beautiful hazel eyes.   I was really worried at first about Gunny brutalizing her and had to introduce them with Gunny on a leash for about 4 days.  Eventually I let them "play" together, which consisted of Lola taking off running and Gunny knocking her over, repeatedly.  But eventually Lola got big and big enough to take care of herself (which was the rationale for getting a BIG dog in the first place).  And now they love each other and are BFF.

And Gunny is a grown "man" now.  He no longer snaps when someone tries to pet him (although I am convinced he would EAT anyone who attempted to break into our home or hurt me, Mickey or Lola).  He's no longer an Alligator.  He's our sweet Gunny.  Happy Birthday Big Boy!  We love you.

How NOT to get a Man

Dating after Divorce entails a few more challenges, than it did back when you were young and single.

If you have children, you have to not only consider their welfare and well-being, but also ensure that your children can like and get along with the Candidate, but also that the Candidate can like and get along with your kids.  Add to this dynamic, HIS children and HIS ex-wife, and it can get very complicated.

And sadly, if you are a woman, you have an age bias with which to deal.  Older men still, with some exceptions, like younger women.  So in dating men your own age, there is a lot of competition.  Which is not to say that it can't happen.  I'm four years older than Mickey, after all.

But even with these above mentioned odds, some women go a few steps farther in ensuring that they will NEVER find another man of their own.    These are instances that I have witnessed.   Some examples are downright crazy and defy all forms of common sense.

1. DO NOT tell your Candidate of three months, that you are still in Love with your ex-husband, and that if not for his big-breasted Barbie Whore wife, you and he would still be together;
2. DO NOT borrow your Candidate's vehicle while he works (for free) to repair your broken vehicle, and then take HIS vehicle to the airport to hook up some other new Candidate that you met on the Internet  And if you do this, by all means, do not leave your airport parking voucher in his car;
3. DO NOT tell a Candidate during the first date, that he, being seven years older than you, is "the oldest guy I've ever dated.";
4. DO NOT, when you sleep over at a Candidate's house and he leaves in the morning to fetch donuts for you, rummage through his drawers and closets and snoop through his computers.   And if you DO this, DO NOT confront him about what you found on his computer.  And if you do that, DO NOT act surprised when he physically throws your ass out of his home and threatens to get a restraining order against you;
5. DO NOT, after only one date with a Candidate, put your teen-aged daughter in the car with you and drive-by his home when he is not there, pull in his driveway, get out of your car and go peek inside all of the windows.  This is called Trespassing.  His neighbors will report your unlawful activity and he will threaten you with a restraining order if you ever come near his home again;

One would think these "tips" would go without saying.  But, unfortunately, these instances are all true.

A Day in My Life

SOMETIMES I leave out (of these posts), the fact that I live a freaking FABULOUS life.

I can't complain, but sometimes I do.  Just for fun.  But even though I suffer some minor irritations and road bumps, when I lump everthing together as a whole, I have been very LUCKY and BLESSED.   [as witnessed by the fact that Mickey, laying a few feet away from me, just blurted, out of nowhere, "I love you Pammy."  He's so sweet.]

THURSDAY of this week, my Darling husband, decided that "his baby" really needs and deserves a new Land Rover.  I must admit, I liked my old Acadia.  It was only two years old and still drove like brand new.  And after I washed it, it still looked like a brand new car.  The only problem with it was that I had put a ridiculous amount of miles on it during the two years I spent driving 3 hours a day for [that company that will remain nameless].

MICKEY said that he loves me and that I deserve it.  And he wants to give it to me for an early birthday present.  So we spent 3.5 hours of our lives (that we will NEVER get back) going through the motions of negotiating with the Terrorists Sales guys at the car dealership.  And then we drove off of the lot with a $65,000 stunning vehicle.

THEN, (it gets better, if that's even possible) the next day Mickey and I drove to the sprawling, beautiful home of some good friends of ours for a Casino party.  There was a live DJ and karaoke, catered food, dancing, lots of alcohol, pool, roulette and Blackjack Tables.

NOW, I don't normally gamble.  It just seems so unfairly weighted.  I don't enjoy wasting money.  But since we were sponsors, we (Mickey and I) were given $5,000 to start.  $5,000.  So on the first role my number AND color came up on the roulette wheel.  So my first $100 win was 35/1.  So I made $3,400 the first time on the table.  After that, I rarely lost.  Until I had over $50,000 in chips.  But I decided to keep playing.  And then Mickey joined me and we ended up $28,000 positive.

Not a bad way to end a night.  And a weekend.

I love being Me.