Who dat says they gunna beat them Saints? Nobody, absolutely nobody!
Saints fans, of which I am one, have been waiting since 1967, the year New Orleans was awarded the Saints franchise, to go to the Super Bowl. For forty two years fans have been as loyal as possible to a team that continually disappointed. But hopefully, that thought is in the past and they are positioned to now be a contender.
Yesterday was a very fun day! My husband and I spent the day with our family at a sports bar, drinking beer and eating wings and watching the Saints beat the Washington Redskins to add one more victory to their 12 and 0 record.
I have friends who have already booked their airline tickets to go and watch the Saints in the Super Bowl. If it is going to happen, it looks like this is their year to shine.
Yesterday I reminisced about the first few years of the franchise. My father had box seats on the 45 yard line, two boxes away from Al Hirt’s box. He was on the 50 yard line and with his band entertained the crowd every week. New Orleans is “the party town” and a Saints game was the biggest party of the week. Eighty thousand people filled Tulane stadium where the first year’s games were played. The Superdome was not built until 1975.
I remember one Sunday when two brothers got into a fist fight in the box across from us. I knew those people very well and they were scratching each other’s eyes out, enough to draw blood. The game was stopped and all eyes in the stadium were on that box. It was totally wild!
Even if you are not a Saints fan or even a football fan, please say a little prayer for a team that has been a big part of the New Orleans culture for a long time. They need the win!
Geaux Saints!
Monday, December 7, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Pandora's Box
I have looked into Pandora’s Box and found a place of immense pleasure….Pandora.com! You type in the artist or song you want to listen to and voilla, there it is. Streaming through my computer, I am enjoying a world I like to live in. A world where everything is possible! My mind can drift to all its hidden recesses, from the past to the future, to the pleasures that the grind of everyday do not allow. For those who know me, music, is where it’s at! Music is my catatylist for dance.
I can get up and dance… by myself and I am happy as a lark! I liken the pleasure to that I arrive from looking into my children’s faces or that intimate moment with my husband. Music and dance is that physical, spiritual and emotional extra in our lives that I personally can’t get enough of.
I can get up and dance… by myself and I am happy as a lark! I liken the pleasure to that I arrive from looking into my children’s faces or that intimate moment with my husband. Music and dance is that physical, spiritual and emotional extra in our lives that I personally can’t get enough of.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Sixties versus Sixty!
Who would have thunk! Me in my sixties….why do people consider this decade as old age? Am I really considered old? I know the world classifies me that way. I signed up to participate in surveys and focus groups on line. I have only been offered one focus group that even cares what “my age thinks” and after filling out the questionnaire to see if I even qualify to participate in the survey, I was told no; thank you anyway. The world must really not care what I think at all.
In the 1960’s, I was in high school and college; in fact, it was in the sixties that I married. I basically lived life the same as I do now. I am busy helping plan a forty-five year reunion for my high school class. I think I will pose the question to them, “Do you basically live your life the way you always have?”
I don’t think of myself as old. I am reconnecting with friends back when I was a teenager. They are all happy and vibrant adults. They still do the things we did when we were younger… dance, go to ball games, have an occasional cocktail, go out to eat and generally live their life and have a good time just like always. The day I brought home a sports car to drive, my children commented that maybe I was too old to be driving such a fast and snazzy car! My answer was, “you are only as old as you feel” I enjoy driving that car now, just as much as I would have if I were in my twenties. In fact, I have wanted that car since my twenties! The perception that the world has that an older person shouldn’t enjoy certain parts of life anymore is screwy!
OK, the only thing that is objectionable to me is that the body does not look like it used to. When I look in the mirror, my face shows a tiredness it never used to have and lines that don’t go away. Only recently did I notice circles under my eyes every day, instead of occasionally. I look at an old picture of me that shows a perfect figure and a flawless face. I realize, I didn’t feel any different then, than I do now…I just look different! I know what my limitations are now. I can’t wear a lot of the clothes, I used to wear….inappropriate for my age. I get it! I understand! I can’t run as fast as I used too, but so what! Do you get my drift?
The grocery store, the movie theatre and the cruise lines have been giving me discounts for seven years already and all because I reached that magical golden senior stage. Of course, I realize it is a marketing tool, but somehow I think it cast a negative spin on the age group. OK, we don’t have babies anymore, so don’t send us coupons for baby food, but seriously….we live everyday just like every age….we look forward to things, we dream, we live……one day at a time!
In the 1960’s, I was in high school and college; in fact, it was in the sixties that I married. I basically lived life the same as I do now. I am busy helping plan a forty-five year reunion for my high school class. I think I will pose the question to them, “Do you basically live your life the way you always have?”
I don’t think of myself as old. I am reconnecting with friends back when I was a teenager. They are all happy and vibrant adults. They still do the things we did when we were younger… dance, go to ball games, have an occasional cocktail, go out to eat and generally live their life and have a good time just like always. The day I brought home a sports car to drive, my children commented that maybe I was too old to be driving such a fast and snazzy car! My answer was, “you are only as old as you feel” I enjoy driving that car now, just as much as I would have if I were in my twenties. In fact, I have wanted that car since my twenties! The perception that the world has that an older person shouldn’t enjoy certain parts of life anymore is screwy!
OK, the only thing that is objectionable to me is that the body does not look like it used to. When I look in the mirror, my face shows a tiredness it never used to have and lines that don’t go away. Only recently did I notice circles under my eyes every day, instead of occasionally. I look at an old picture of me that shows a perfect figure and a flawless face. I realize, I didn’t feel any different then, than I do now…I just look different! I know what my limitations are now. I can’t wear a lot of the clothes, I used to wear….inappropriate for my age. I get it! I understand! I can’t run as fast as I used too, but so what! Do you get my drift?
The grocery store, the movie theatre and the cruise lines have been giving me discounts for seven years already and all because I reached that magical golden senior stage. Of course, I realize it is a marketing tool, but somehow I think it cast a negative spin on the age group. OK, we don’t have babies anymore, so don’t send us coupons for baby food, but seriously….we live everyday just like every age….we look forward to things, we dream, we live……one day at a time!
Friday, October 16, 2009
My Mother
The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides. The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, but true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows!
My Mother was a star and it wasn’t till she died that I realized it. Her life was her children. She wanted everything for us.
When I was Homecoming Queen she not only had my suit made, but we were off to Meyer the Hatter to get my hat covered in the same material as the suit and she even talked them into covering the shoes as well. Unheard of!
We picked a beautiful couture gown off the pages of Vogue and she had it made for my high school graduation. The top was polished cotton with delicate baby crystals and the skirt was a balloon of bellowing quilted cotton with satin bows with crystals at the apex of the bows. It was amazing.
When I was a freshman at LSU, I was invited to the Kappa Alpha Ole South Ball. Otis Redding was the entertainment that night. Are you listening, I said “Otis Redding”
What to wear! Plantation dresses of that time period were pretty pastels with big hoop skirts and most of the girls who had been invited, rented their dresses. Not I… my Mother had a dress made for me. It was very special. She hated Jerry my date, but if I was going, I had to look special! She thought we were getting too close and I was not allowed to go back to LSU for my sophomore year. Those were the days we listened to our parents. What happened to those days? He was so cute with his blond hair and rosiolla of the cheeks! I heard years later that he had become a multi millionaire. He was so cute!
My Mother entertained beautifully with the finest linens and silverware. Whenever I am complimented on a dinner or function I have executed, I always give credit to my Mother. She taught me everything I know. I often hope my girls will pick up on some of my teachings. Maybe through osmosis!
This is a perfect place to tell the story I wrote for “The Jewish Women’s Archives” about my Mother and the miraculous story of her escape from New Orleans during Katrina.
It was the Wednesday after Katrina hit and the levees had destroyed the city. The TV had shown pictures of Memorial Hospital. The commentator had said that the hospital had been evacuated and that the hospital was empty. My mother had needed a procedure done and she had been admitted to the hospital on the preceding Saturday. When the word came on Sunday that the city must evacuate, my mothers’ doctor, had told the family she would be more comfortable and safer at the hospital versus taking a long road trip.
Our family was dispersed all over the south and the children of, Margaret Buring were calling each other frantically asking, “Have you heard from her?” The four of us waited and waited; but, by Wednesday afternoon, we started to really worry. Where was our Mother? Surely if the hospital had been evacuated, she would have reached at least one of us.
We called every hospital we could find from Texas to Florida and heard the same refrain, ‘we are supposed to get evacuees, but so far none have come in!” My brother-in-law even got Michael Brown (the head of FEMA) on the phone and he couldn’t help. Panic started to set in.
All day Thursday we heard nothing… and then, at six that evening, the phone rang. I ran to get it and the gentleman at the other end said “This is Delta airlines calling. I said, Yes sir, what can I do for you?” After what seemed like the longest pause and in a voice that was filled with pride, he says, “We Have Your Mother!” I screamed, rushed to the car and called my siblings.
I spied her sitting on a bench. My first thought was that she looked like a Holocaust survivor. My mother was a woman who prided herself on always looking immaculate and here sat our Mother with disheveled hair wearing nothing but shorty pajamas, socks that Delta Airlines had given her and the look of an eighty plus year old woman that said “I am a survivor! I jumped out of the car to hug her and she whispered in my ear, “you have a very smart mother!’
And smart she was as she told us the grueling story of her survival. She had been in the hospital for five days with temperatures reaching 106 degrees and no food, other then water. How all the patients had been moved to higher floors using the stairwell to avoid rising waters. She said that she slept in the hallways with people screaming all around her. She spoke of the amazing doctors and nurses and volunteers who had stayed behind to take care of the infirmed.
Finally on Thursday morning she was told that boats had finally come to the hospital to evacuate the patients. She gathered the only belongings she could carry and put them in a small plastic bag. They consisted of her wallet, her eyeglasses and her medicine. She had on shorty pajamas, a matching robe and a pair of slippers. Besides her plastic bag she had her walker. As the line moved forward to get on the boat, the security guard told the patients, “You are not allowed to take anything on the boat except yourselves. Every person dropped their little plastic bags. Now she had nothing, but herself and her wits. She did keep her walker.
The doors opened and she stepped into the dirty water almost to her waist. She was lifted on to the boat. As it moved down what used to be a double lane street with a pretty median with trees and flowers down the middle, she thought now I am safe. No sooner had this thought crossed her mind, when the person driving the boat said that she would have to get off. The water at that point was not high enough to sustain the weight of the boat and its passengers. She walked to higher ground though the murky waters for three long blocks. She thought to herself, I am not going to die here. I want to see my children again. She lost her house shoes and discarded her robe as it was sopping wet and grimy.
She found an ambulance and was driven to the airport. She was told that the Air Force was sending planes for all evacuees. A lady lent her some coins to use the phone to call us, but nothing worked. She walked over to the information desk and asked when would the planes be coming? The woman had no idea, but told her that the president of Delta Airlines had flown in a group of Delta employee volunteers from Atlanta that day and that his plane was leaving in ten minutes and taking back evacuees. My Mother walked as quickly as she could to the gate and saw that the line to get on the plane was far out the door. She spied a man in a wheelchair at the back of the line and approached him. “Sir, I know you want to get on this plane, she said, “Stick with me!” She escorted him to the front of the line and entered the area for handicapped patients. Needless to say, our mother got on that plane!
I was fortunate enough to spend the last year of my Mothers life together with her in Atlanta. Last weekend my family was here to celebrate the marriage of my oldest son. It was also the anniversary of of the date my Mother passed away one year ago. To honor her we all went to services on Saturday morning. As I waited at the synagogue for the services to begin I was telling a total stranger about my mothers Katrina story and he summed it up beautifully.; no matter what trials G-d puts before us the human spirit will prevail.
G-d rests her soul. We miss her terribly…..
The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides. The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, but true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows!
My Mother was a star and it wasn’t till she died that I realized it. Her life was her children. She wanted everything for us.
When I was Homecoming Queen she not only had my suit made, but we were off to Meyer the Hatter to get my hat covered in the same material as the suit and she even talked them into covering the shoes as well. Unheard of!
We picked a beautiful couture gown off the pages of Vogue and she had it made for my high school graduation. The top was polished cotton with delicate baby crystals and the skirt was a balloon of bellowing quilted cotton with satin bows with crystals at the apex of the bows. It was amazing.
When I was a freshman at LSU, I was invited to the Kappa Alpha Ole South Ball. Otis Redding was the entertainment that night. Are you listening, I said “Otis Redding”
What to wear! Plantation dresses of that time period were pretty pastels with big hoop skirts and most of the girls who had been invited, rented their dresses. Not I… my Mother had a dress made for me. It was very special. She hated Jerry my date, but if I was going, I had to look special! She thought we were getting too close and I was not allowed to go back to LSU for my sophomore year. Those were the days we listened to our parents. What happened to those days? He was so cute with his blond hair and rosiolla of the cheeks! I heard years later that he had become a multi millionaire. He was so cute!
My Mother entertained beautifully with the finest linens and silverware. Whenever I am complimented on a dinner or function I have executed, I always give credit to my Mother. She taught me everything I know. I often hope my girls will pick up on some of my teachings. Maybe through osmosis!
This is a perfect place to tell the story I wrote for “The Jewish Women’s Archives” about my Mother and the miraculous story of her escape from New Orleans during Katrina.
It was the Wednesday after Katrina hit and the levees had destroyed the city. The TV had shown pictures of Memorial Hospital. The commentator had said that the hospital had been evacuated and that the hospital was empty. My mother had needed a procedure done and she had been admitted to the hospital on the preceding Saturday. When the word came on Sunday that the city must evacuate, my mothers’ doctor, had told the family she would be more comfortable and safer at the hospital versus taking a long road trip.
Our family was dispersed all over the south and the children of, Margaret Buring were calling each other frantically asking, “Have you heard from her?” The four of us waited and waited; but, by Wednesday afternoon, we started to really worry. Where was our Mother? Surely if the hospital had been evacuated, she would have reached at least one of us.
We called every hospital we could find from Texas to Florida and heard the same refrain, ‘we are supposed to get evacuees, but so far none have come in!” My brother-in-law even got Michael Brown (the head of FEMA) on the phone and he couldn’t help. Panic started to set in.
All day Thursday we heard nothing… and then, at six that evening, the phone rang. I ran to get it and the gentleman at the other end said “This is Delta airlines calling. I said, Yes sir, what can I do for you?” After what seemed like the longest pause and in a voice that was filled with pride, he says, “We Have Your Mother!” I screamed, rushed to the car and called my siblings.
I spied her sitting on a bench. My first thought was that she looked like a Holocaust survivor. My mother was a woman who prided herself on always looking immaculate and here sat our Mother with disheveled hair wearing nothing but shorty pajamas, socks that Delta Airlines had given her and the look of an eighty plus year old woman that said “I am a survivor! I jumped out of the car to hug her and she whispered in my ear, “you have a very smart mother!’
And smart she was as she told us the grueling story of her survival. She had been in the hospital for five days with temperatures reaching 106 degrees and no food, other then water. How all the patients had been moved to higher floors using the stairwell to avoid rising waters. She said that she slept in the hallways with people screaming all around her. She spoke of the amazing doctors and nurses and volunteers who had stayed behind to take care of the infirmed.
Finally on Thursday morning she was told that boats had finally come to the hospital to evacuate the patients. She gathered the only belongings she could carry and put them in a small plastic bag. They consisted of her wallet, her eyeglasses and her medicine. She had on shorty pajamas, a matching robe and a pair of slippers. Besides her plastic bag she had her walker. As the line moved forward to get on the boat, the security guard told the patients, “You are not allowed to take anything on the boat except yourselves. Every person dropped their little plastic bags. Now she had nothing, but herself and her wits. She did keep her walker.
The doors opened and she stepped into the dirty water almost to her waist. She was lifted on to the boat. As it moved down what used to be a double lane street with a pretty median with trees and flowers down the middle, she thought now I am safe. No sooner had this thought crossed her mind, when the person driving the boat said that she would have to get off. The water at that point was not high enough to sustain the weight of the boat and its passengers. She walked to higher ground though the murky waters for three long blocks. She thought to herself, I am not going to die here. I want to see my children again. She lost her house shoes and discarded her robe as it was sopping wet and grimy.
She found an ambulance and was driven to the airport. She was told that the Air Force was sending planes for all evacuees. A lady lent her some coins to use the phone to call us, but nothing worked. She walked over to the information desk and asked when would the planes be coming? The woman had no idea, but told her that the president of Delta Airlines had flown in a group of Delta employee volunteers from Atlanta that day and that his plane was leaving in ten minutes and taking back evacuees. My Mother walked as quickly as she could to the gate and saw that the line to get on the plane was far out the door. She spied a man in a wheelchair at the back of the line and approached him. “Sir, I know you want to get on this plane, she said, “Stick with me!” She escorted him to the front of the line and entered the area for handicapped patients. Needless to say, our mother got on that plane!
I was fortunate enough to spend the last year of my Mothers life together with her in Atlanta. Last weekend my family was here to celebrate the marriage of my oldest son. It was also the anniversary of of the date my Mother passed away one year ago. To honor her we all went to services on Saturday morning. As I waited at the synagogue for the services to begin I was telling a total stranger about my mothers Katrina story and he summed it up beautifully.; no matter what trials G-d puts before us the human spirit will prevail.
G-d rests her soul. We miss her terribly…..
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Jerry Springer
It has been so much fun telling my Jerry Springer story. Yes, I am talking about the man who has become an American icon as the host of the pop culture “Jerry Springer Show", and as of yesterday has made his Broadway debut as the lead in the long running play "Chicago".
It all started a few years back from an interview with Jerry Springer that was in the New Orleans newspaper, The Times Picayune. My husband and I have lived in Atlanta for the past twenty years: about ten years ago, my sister Sandra called me from New Orleans, my hometown to say that my name, my maiden name, was in the Times Picayune that day. The article was on Jerry Springer who was in New Orleans being interviewed about his college days at Tulane. Among the questions asked him were, “Do you remember any girls you dated during your days at Tulane?” Lo and behold, he named two girls and one of them was me!
Currently, he was the emcee of “America’s Got Talent” and he and the judges of the show were coming to Atlanta to audition talent for the next season. When I heard he was coming, I decided to email him thru the “fan” email address for the Jerry Springer Show, knowing full well this was a shot in the dark. I wrote that if he had remembered my name after forty years that possibly he might like to join my husband and I for dinner during his visit to Atlanta.
He actually called! My husband Steve and I took him to the restaurant, Hal’s on Old Ivy. Hal, not only is a New Orleans native but, is my ex husband. We all are friends and I knew Jerry would be comfortable there. (This night could have been a real “Jerry Springer Show”!) Of course it wasn’t: it was great fun and Hal graciously picked up the bill.
Jerry told me he had had a crush on me, but never really asked me out….but always remembered my name.
I must say our dinner together was very special. He was amazingly kind and charming and totally a down to earth real human being. Well.... he is coming back in a couple of weeks. "Chicago" will be playing in Atlanta and he called and we will get together. Gosh where will I take him this time?
It has been so much fun telling my Jerry Springer story. Yes, I am talking about the man who has become an American icon as the host of the pop culture “Jerry Springer Show", and as of yesterday has made his Broadway debut as the lead in the long running play "Chicago".
It all started a few years back from an interview with Jerry Springer that was in the New Orleans newspaper, The Times Picayune. My husband and I have lived in Atlanta for the past twenty years: about ten years ago, my sister Sandra called me from New Orleans, my hometown to say that my name, my maiden name, was in the Times Picayune that day. The article was on Jerry Springer who was in New Orleans being interviewed about his college days at Tulane. Among the questions asked him were, “Do you remember any girls you dated during your days at Tulane?” Lo and behold, he named two girls and one of them was me!
Currently, he was the emcee of “America’s Got Talent” and he and the judges of the show were coming to Atlanta to audition talent for the next season. When I heard he was coming, I decided to email him thru the “fan” email address for the Jerry Springer Show, knowing full well this was a shot in the dark. I wrote that if he had remembered my name after forty years that possibly he might like to join my husband and I for dinner during his visit to Atlanta.
He actually called! My husband Steve and I took him to the restaurant, Hal’s on Old Ivy. Hal, not only is a New Orleans native but, is my ex husband. We all are friends and I knew Jerry would be comfortable there. (This night could have been a real “Jerry Springer Show”!) Of course it wasn’t: it was great fun and Hal graciously picked up the bill.
Jerry told me he had had a crush on me, but never really asked me out….but always remembered my name.
I must say our dinner together was very special. He was amazingly kind and charming and totally a down to earth real human being. Well.... he is coming back in a couple of weeks. "Chicago" will be playing in Atlanta and he called and we will get together. Gosh where will I take him this time?
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Crawfish
I have been called on the rug! I actually got phone calls reprimanding me for spelling the word crawfish...crayfish! I was told being from the South, the only way to spell this crustacean is "crawfish". They were actually embarrassed for me. I have now done some research and found that anything goes.
The name "crayfish" comes from the Old French word escrevisse (Modern French écrevisse) from Old Frankish *krebitja (cf. crab), from the same root as crawl. The word has been modified to "crayfish" by association with "fish" (folk etymology). The largely American variant "crawfish" is similarly derived.
Some kinds of crayfish are known locally as lobsters, crawdads, mudbugs and yabbies. In the Eastern United States, "crayfish" is more common in the north, while "crawdad" is heard more in central and western regions, and "crawfish" further south, although there are considerable overlaps.
The only thing I know for sure is that no matter how the word is spelled, they taste great!
I have been called on the rug! I actually got phone calls reprimanding me for spelling the word crawfish...crayfish! I was told being from the South, the only way to spell this crustacean is "crawfish". They were actually embarrassed for me. I have now done some research and found that anything goes.
The name "crayfish" comes from the Old French word escrevisse (Modern French écrevisse) from Old Frankish *krebitja (cf. crab), from the same root as crawl. The word has been modified to "crayfish" by association with "fish" (folk etymology). The largely American variant "crawfish" is similarly derived.
Some kinds of crayfish are known locally as lobsters, crawdads, mudbugs and yabbies. In the Eastern United States, "crayfish" is more common in the north, while "crawdad" is heard more in central and western regions, and "crawfish" further south, although there are considerable overlaps.
The only thing I know for sure is that no matter how the word is spelled, they taste great!
Monday, August 3, 2009
SEAFOOD
Growing up in New Orleans, one of the most fun experiences of my youth was going to the seafood restaurants on Lake Pontchartrain. You walked from the waters edge down a wooden ramp over the water and entered a building held up on pilings. We always requested a table next to the windows so that we could see the water. My father would start our meal and order a dozen and a half hard shell crabs, two dozen boiled shrimp and three dozen crayfish. We ordered Barq's Root Beer or Cream Soda which New Orleanians called "Red Drink" and then we opened and ate all the treasures of the sea in front of us. Our waitress would then scoop up all the debris and take our orders for fried seafood platters. I always ordered the fried shrimp plate which consisted of a dozen shrimp, expertly fried, french fries and two pieces of toast that no one ate. Other times I ordered a fried oyster Po boy . I requested only butter on the french bread; no lettuce and tomato, and tarter sauce, lemon, ketchup, hot sauce and lots of sliced dills on the side. Yummy! My favorite place was called Brunings and when I became eighteen (the legal age to drink then), I ordered the most divine specialty drink they were known for, called a "Dreamsickle". It consisted of nectar liqueur and cream and it was so good! Unfortunately Brunings along with all those wonderful seafood establishments on the water are now gone, swept away during Katrina.
Last weekend we had a seafood boil and all the memories came flooding back. We had crabs and crayfish and although the setting was different, the eating experience was the same. My grandchild laughed and laughed when a couple of the live crayfish climbed out of the box and took a dip in the swimming pool, before being rescued
and sent to their fiery end.
If you have not tried sea bass in a while I recently made a dish at home that my husband thought was delicious. He doesn't often put such a glorious description on my cooking, but we both thought the dish extremely good. To begin,I shaved a few strips of fresh ginger and chopped a little green onion. I wilted fresh spinach by sauteing fresh garlic and olive oil with it. I steamed the sea bass until it was flaky and I made a sauce of soy, dry sherry, sugar and water and warmed it. I cooked some Jasmine rice and then assembled the dish. I placed a generous spoon full of the fresh spinach in a wide bowl. I placed a couple of ginger shavings on the spinach and sprinkled the green onion over the top. I then placed the fish over the vegetable and brushed the fish with a mixture of vegetable oil and sesame oil. I put two heaping tablespoons of rice next to the fish and spooned three to four tablespoons of the soy mixture over the entire dish. So good! The dish is a meal all by itself and is very rich: but, if you want a starter, I would suggest either a cold Asian cucumber salad or a mixture of iceberg lettuce, tomato, cucumber and carrot tossed in a good ginger dressing.
I am laboriously , but having fun with it, still working on my cookbook. Additionally, I love writing this blog. I get to remember and share with others my life experiences and if you find something interesting in my diatribes, please use and enjoy.
Growing up in New Orleans, one of the most fun experiences of my youth was going to the seafood restaurants on Lake Pontchartrain. You walked from the waters edge down a wooden ramp over the water and entered a building held up on pilings. We always requested a table next to the windows so that we could see the water. My father would start our meal and order a dozen and a half hard shell crabs, two dozen boiled shrimp and three dozen crayfish. We ordered Barq's Root Beer or Cream Soda which New Orleanians called "Red Drink" and then we opened and ate all the treasures of the sea in front of us. Our waitress would then scoop up all the debris and take our orders for fried seafood platters. I always ordered the fried shrimp plate which consisted of a dozen shrimp, expertly fried, french fries and two pieces of toast that no one ate. Other times I ordered a fried oyster Po boy . I requested only butter on the french bread; no lettuce and tomato, and tarter sauce, lemon, ketchup, hot sauce and lots of sliced dills on the side. Yummy! My favorite place was called Brunings and when I became eighteen (the legal age to drink then), I ordered the most divine specialty drink they were known for, called a "Dreamsickle". It consisted of nectar liqueur and cream and it was so good! Unfortunately Brunings along with all those wonderful seafood establishments on the water are now gone, swept away during Katrina.
Last weekend we had a seafood boil and all the memories came flooding back. We had crabs and crayfish and although the setting was different, the eating experience was the same. My grandchild laughed and laughed when a couple of the live crayfish climbed out of the box and took a dip in the swimming pool, before being rescued
and sent to their fiery end.
If you have not tried sea bass in a while I recently made a dish at home that my husband thought was delicious. He doesn't often put such a glorious description on my cooking, but we both thought the dish extremely good. To begin,I shaved a few strips of fresh ginger and chopped a little green onion. I wilted fresh spinach by sauteing fresh garlic and olive oil with it. I steamed the sea bass until it was flaky and I made a sauce of soy, dry sherry, sugar and water and warmed it. I cooked some Jasmine rice and then assembled the dish. I placed a generous spoon full of the fresh spinach in a wide bowl. I placed a couple of ginger shavings on the spinach and sprinkled the green onion over the top. I then placed the fish over the vegetable and brushed the fish with a mixture of vegetable oil and sesame oil. I put two heaping tablespoons of rice next to the fish and spooned three to four tablespoons of the soy mixture over the entire dish. So good! The dish is a meal all by itself and is very rich: but, if you want a starter, I would suggest either a cold Asian cucumber salad or a mixture of iceberg lettuce, tomato, cucumber and carrot tossed in a good ginger dressing.
I am laboriously , but having fun with it, still working on my cookbook. Additionally, I love writing this blog. I get to remember and share with others my life experiences and if you find something interesting in my diatribes, please use and enjoy.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Midday Gourmet
I have started the cookbook I always wanted to write. It will not be one of those family recipes copied and bound at Kinko's. Nothing against them, but I want a wider audience and I believe that the end result will be one others will be interested in purchasing.
Over ten years ago I started a small business in the carriage house on our property. I made salads and sandwiches every day and had college kids deliver and sell them to businesses in my area. I called it Midday Gourmet. The sell period was between eleven and two in the afternoon and this business was the springboard for a larger catering venture that I still run on a part time basis. Through the years I have jotted down all the favorite recipes that I have either served and or sold. These recipes along with menus and table scapes using these recipes will be my focus. I visualize it as more of a coffee table book then one that is shelved in the kitchen.
Good food starts with planning. Some people have a knack for putting a pretty table together, others naturally throw a meal together in an hour and it is terrific; still others don't have a clue and have no interest in even trying. This book will cover the planning, implementing and final result of this effort.
Stay tuned...
I have started the cookbook I always wanted to write. It will not be one of those family recipes copied and bound at Kinko's. Nothing against them, but I want a wider audience and I believe that the end result will be one others will be interested in purchasing.
Over ten years ago I started a small business in the carriage house on our property. I made salads and sandwiches every day and had college kids deliver and sell them to businesses in my area. I called it Midday Gourmet. The sell period was between eleven and two in the afternoon and this business was the springboard for a larger catering venture that I still run on a part time basis. Through the years I have jotted down all the favorite recipes that I have either served and or sold. These recipes along with menus and table scapes using these recipes will be my focus. I visualize it as more of a coffee table book then one that is shelved in the kitchen.
Good food starts with planning. Some people have a knack for putting a pretty table together, others naturally throw a meal together in an hour and it is terrific; still others don't have a clue and have no interest in even trying. This book will cover the planning, implementing and final result of this effort.
Stay tuned...
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Passover 2009
Passover was fun this year! We had thirty at our table and I even did my own flowers. The menu is always the traditional one of brisket and chicken ; but, for the very first time we made our own gefilte fish. I must admit it was a process, but if your son is a fish wholesaler, well why not? Any white fish will do and I used halibut. It was a treat and one hundred percent better then doctored up fish from a jar.
We also made homemade horseradish and it was a real treat. I bought six jars of Gold's red horseradish, but at the last minute, decided to make our own. By the way, Gold's turned out to be be real gold! My husband was at the grocery picking up some last minute items and while standing at the counter where the bottled horseradish is kept, he encountered a man looking for some. Not one bottle was left. My husband casually mentioned we had six bottles at our house that we would not be using and he was welcome to them. He actually followed my husband the five miles to our house and got two jars. I said to my husband latter, "who was that masked man?". He said,"I don't know, I didn't catch his name!" That was random!
I always try to do an interesting dessert for Passover. Store bought cookies for Passover are taboo in my house. One year I did individual meringue shells filled with chocolate mousse and topped with strawberries, kuwi and whipped cream This year I made a blackberry topped cheese cake with a matzo cake meal and almond crust. Pick-up desserts were handmade mandel bread, chocolate and pecan meringues and brownies with pecans and without for one of my daughters-in-law.
Passover is always a wonderful and joyous occassion in our home. Not only do we retell the story of the enslavement of our ancestors and their passage to freedom; but being with family and friends makes for a comforting, peaceful and down right fun time in our lives.
Passover was fun this year! We had thirty at our table and I even did my own flowers. The menu is always the traditional one of brisket and chicken ; but, for the very first time we made our own gefilte fish. I must admit it was a process, but if your son is a fish wholesaler, well why not? Any white fish will do and I used halibut. It was a treat and one hundred percent better then doctored up fish from a jar.
We also made homemade horseradish and it was a real treat. I bought six jars of Gold's red horseradish, but at the last minute, decided to make our own. By the way, Gold's turned out to be be real gold! My husband was at the grocery picking up some last minute items and while standing at the counter where the bottled horseradish is kept, he encountered a man looking for some. Not one bottle was left. My husband casually mentioned we had six bottles at our house that we would not be using and he was welcome to them. He actually followed my husband the five miles to our house and got two jars. I said to my husband latter, "who was that masked man?". He said,"I don't know, I didn't catch his name!" That was random!
I always try to do an interesting dessert for Passover. Store bought cookies for Passover are taboo in my house. One year I did individual meringue shells filled with chocolate mousse and topped with strawberries, kuwi and whipped cream This year I made a blackberry topped cheese cake with a matzo cake meal and almond crust. Pick-up desserts were handmade mandel bread, chocolate and pecan meringues and brownies with pecans and without for one of my daughters-in-law.
Passover is always a wonderful and joyous occassion in our home. Not only do we retell the story of the enslavement of our ancestors and their passage to freedom; but being with family and friends makes for a comforting, peaceful and down right fun time in our lives.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Girls Night Out
It is not often I go out without my husband, but sometimes to kibbitz with the girls can be fun.
It was a friends birthday and we met at the beautiful home of one of the honorees friends and supped on selections from Whole Foods. Being a cook myself, I have never really been that interested in store bought prepared foods; but I must admit the selection was quite tasty. The ravioli was stuffed with artichokes and a sandwich of fontina cheese and potobella mushrooms on forccacia bread was delish. The buffet also included a chicken kabob and three kinds of sushi. Our host has an extensive wine collection and the red I drank was wonderful. Dessert was a real treat. It was a chocolate ice from a new outlet of Rita's Ices. It tasted just like a chocolate snowball from New Orleans and I was in heaven.
I was invited to join the girls to go out dancing and I was game. It was a place that people over forty congregate, mostly singles; but I didn't care if I danced with the girls, as long as I danced. Dancing is a passion of mine. It allows me to feel good, it releases any stress I may be having and it is just plain fun. I ordered a drink and got on the dance floor with my girlfriends. I had a ball. I drove home with the top down and thought, I need to do that more often.
It is not often I go out without my husband, but sometimes to kibbitz with the girls can be fun.
It was a friends birthday and we met at the beautiful home of one of the honorees friends and supped on selections from Whole Foods. Being a cook myself, I have never really been that interested in store bought prepared foods; but I must admit the selection was quite tasty. The ravioli was stuffed with artichokes and a sandwich of fontina cheese and potobella mushrooms on forccacia bread was delish. The buffet also included a chicken kabob and three kinds of sushi. Our host has an extensive wine collection and the red I drank was wonderful. Dessert was a real treat. It was a chocolate ice from a new outlet of Rita's Ices. It tasted just like a chocolate snowball from New Orleans and I was in heaven.
I was invited to join the girls to go out dancing and I was game. It was a place that people over forty congregate, mostly singles; but I didn't care if I danced with the girls, as long as I danced. Dancing is a passion of mine. It allows me to feel good, it releases any stress I may be having and it is just plain fun. I ordered a drink and got on the dance floor with my girlfriends. I had a ball. I drove home with the top down and thought, I need to do that more often.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Great Weekend 3/09/09
Friday night my family is usually all here.
Except for one daughter, everyone else was out of town. One son and daughter-in-law were gallivanting with the likes of Robert Duval, Bill Murray and Sissy Spacek at a film wrap party, another son marched in a college roomies wedding, another daughter away for a fun weekend in Miami and my grandchild in LA with her Mom!
Not to worry: turned it into a weekend of really good friends.
With everyone feeling the bad economy, friends are who we turn to .Friends are crucial to ones lives and I adore ours.
Friday night we had dinner here with a fav couple! Grilled chicken topped with sun-dried tomatoes and goat cheese, my own special Alfredo pasta and string bean -artichoke casserole (tastes similar to a New Orleans style stuffed artichoke).
On Saturday we were invited to the mountains and oh what a showplace. It is called Waterfall at Lake Burton, here in Georgia. I don’t believe I have ever seen views on trips to the mountains quite like these! On our arrival we sat on one of the three levels of screened porches and sipped wine. I promptly fell asleep and our host nudged me as I was on the verge of snoring! I promptly excused myself and I was escorted to my private suite, opened the windows facing the lake and took a long nap before dinner.
Hor dourves of a wonderful spinach dip and hummus with fresh pita were next as we sat in front of a blazing fire. Is this heaven? Dinner was fresh grouper; roasted asparagus and a wonderful potato gratin with onions. We ate in the media room watching a Peter Gabriel concert and then watched “Burn before Reading” which was hysterical!
Dessert-chocolate roulade-decadent On Sunday we ate at a very cute café in downtown Clayton and then drove the one plus hours home with the top down. Got home at 5:15 and not a minute too soon as our next engagement was at six.
Another wonderful house filled with good friends and good food. We ate a wonderful vegetarian dip made with peas and walnuts and camelized onions followed by a buffet of Southern fried chicken, a spicy squash casserole, grilled vegetables and corn muffins. Lemon squares, brownies and blackberries filled in for sweets and we were all extremely satisfied.
Don’t think we could have fit in one more activity or another morsel of food.
Great weekend!
I am invited this week to a girlfriend’s birthday party that includes going out dancing…which I love! Stay tuned…
Except for one daughter, everyone else was out of town. One son and daughter-in-law were gallivanting with the likes of Robert Duval, Bill Murray and Sissy Spacek at a film wrap party, another son marched in a college roomies wedding, another daughter away for a fun weekend in Miami and my grandchild in LA with her Mom!
Not to worry: turned it into a weekend of really good friends.
With everyone feeling the bad economy, friends are who we turn to .Friends are crucial to ones lives and I adore ours.
Friday night we had dinner here with a fav couple! Grilled chicken topped with sun-dried tomatoes and goat cheese, my own special Alfredo pasta and string bean -artichoke casserole (tastes similar to a New Orleans style stuffed artichoke).
On Saturday we were invited to the mountains and oh what a showplace. It is called Waterfall at Lake Burton, here in Georgia. I don’t believe I have ever seen views on trips to the mountains quite like these! On our arrival we sat on one of the three levels of screened porches and sipped wine. I promptly fell asleep and our host nudged me as I was on the verge of snoring! I promptly excused myself and I was escorted to my private suite, opened the windows facing the lake and took a long nap before dinner.
Hor dourves of a wonderful spinach dip and hummus with fresh pita were next as we sat in front of a blazing fire. Is this heaven? Dinner was fresh grouper; roasted asparagus and a wonderful potato gratin with onions. We ate in the media room watching a Peter Gabriel concert and then watched “Burn before Reading” which was hysterical!
Dessert-chocolate roulade-decadent On Sunday we ate at a very cute café in downtown Clayton and then drove the one plus hours home with the top down. Got home at 5:15 and not a minute too soon as our next engagement was at six.
Another wonderful house filled with good friends and good food. We ate a wonderful vegetarian dip made with peas and walnuts and camelized onions followed by a buffet of Southern fried chicken, a spicy squash casserole, grilled vegetables and corn muffins. Lemon squares, brownies and blackberries filled in for sweets and we were all extremely satisfied.
Don’t think we could have fit in one more activity or another morsel of food.
Great weekend!
I am invited this week to a girlfriend’s birthday party that includes going out dancing…which I love! Stay tuned…
Friday, March 6, 2009
Market at the W-Atlanta, Georgia
Hi Friends,
Yesterday I had lunch with friends at the "Market" which is in the new W Hotel on Peachtree. When ever I go to a new place that I think is special, I like to pass on the good word.
Ladies we have now found a new lunch place. It certainly fits most of our criteria: It is in a convenient location, not too expensive, has excellent food and is a very cool place. Valet parking is free when validated after your meal by the restaurant.
We were three in our group and ordered three different entrees. We had a skate fish sitting in a divine broth, a salad with shrimp dressed in champagne vinaigrette, a sirloin hamburger with handmade fries which was excellent and an appetizer which the three of us split. It was a shaved truffle pizza which we thought was outstanding. Each item was large enough to share. We all dug into a mini cheesecake topped with black cherries with a scoop of red wine ice cream. Whoa!
The piece de resistance was chatting with the chef after the meal. One of the girls in my group was totally carried away with his good looks and actually told him how good looking he was. Like he didn’t know!
I love Jolie Kobe, but for a change this is my new favorite place for lunch.
Enjoy…
Lynda
PS My son, Blaiss has been there for dinner and thought it was excellent as well.
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