A Little Bit of Heaven Right Here On Earth

In my search to find something to take me out of the depression my doctor just put me in it occurs to me that I hadn’t yet blogged about My Heavenly Weekend. And believe me if ever a great memory was needed, now’s the time.

I’m sorry, scratch all that. Things aren’t as bad as they may sound. Granted, they’re not great, but life moves on, right? So in the spirit of sucking it up and dealing I present to you, friends & readers, something really fun!

We begin with my first Cooking Class. Now bear in mind this class was more like a workshop. It isn’t part of the course at Miami Dade’s Gourmet Academy, which I’ll be taking in January. Then I’ll be learning Culinary Theory, Technique, etc.

This was just a stand alone continuing education class but I was excited about taking it because it focused on making a meal based on recipes found in the Tuscan region of Italy. And since Italian Cuisine, in all its forms, is something I want to study I thought this would be good.

And was it fun! The Chef, Suzie, is a graduate of Johnson & Wales University and was a pleasure to talk with and I learned much. She gave me some tips on what to expect going into the culinary field and also said I appear comfortable in the kitchen and did very well with respects to the care I took in food preparation as well as clean up. Something that is extremely important when dealing with food.

I got all the recipes from her for the meal we made which was a simple, yet delicious one. A soup with Cannelini beans, Celery, Carrots, Red Cabbage in Chicken Stock. And while that may not sound like anything special, believe me it was not only delicious but healthy and very filling.

Preceding this was an Arugula, Fennel and Orange salad. Which in combination with the soup provided a very light, refreshing contrast to the hearty soup. To finish this off, we baked an Apple Crostata, which is Green Apples, Cinnamon, some Brown Sugar, Butter and Orange Zest in a puff pastry sheet. Basically think of it as a huge Apple Turnover. But it was truly delicious!!

I felt so good about learning this and being able to freely pick Suzie’s brain for advice that I didn’t even mind when my fellow classmates, all women, started berating me for being the only guy in the class (“oh my he’s obviously gay! Oh no!”). And when it came time to sit and eat what we cooked, I served them and cleaned up after them. As I departed to continue my journey through Heaven by way of the Miami Book Fair International, I bid them all a fond farewell and left them all one piece of advice,

“Ladies, this has indeed been a pleasure. But allow me to caution a couple of you on how you speak of homosexuals because from what I’ve overheard at least two of you have homos in training at home. If that is in fact true, may you speak of them far better than you have of me. And if you can’t, at least work on your “whispering” so that they don’t hear you as I have!”

Oh and did I mention that with the exception of one person I outcooked all of them? Oh well!

At the Book Fair I had the great pleasure of catching up with one of my nearest and dearest friends while we walked around and looked at the various Vendors and Authors throughout the street fair. During this time I had the great opportunity to meet the creator and author of one of my youngest son’s newest favorite comic books. And since he’ll be reading this, I’m going to leave it at this because anything else will spoil a great surprise. (Note to my son: Don’t even try figuring this one out, boy. Your brothers are under a pain of death order of silence!)

Then my friend and I went to see John Hodgeman & Larry Wilmore. Mr. Hodgeman is known as the “PC” in the Mac vs PC Apple commercials. He is also an Author and contributor on The Daily Show with John Stewart. Mr. Wilmore is a well recognized Comedy Writer, Author and the Senior Black Correspondent on The Daily Show.

As this was the Book Fair they were of course there to promote their new books. It was the best part of the Fair! We laughed for an hour or more! Even the Q & A portion was hilarious! After which, we waited in line for the gentlemen to sign our books and I even had my picture taken with each of them.

The only shadow on this was my beloved Miami Hurricanes losing (SCREW YOU UNC!!!) But other than that (UNC SUCKS!!!!) it was exactly what I needed. Dear friends, good food, learning and being given information that only reaffirms my decision to get into the culinary field. Along with scoring some major Dad points (No Son, you’ll have to wait to find out why and when you do I expect nothing less than total adoration and genuflection) and being reminded why I love books and writing.

Truly a Heavenly Weekend and a Great Memory!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to create more I hope you are too!

This Wasn’t What I Planned

I had a vindication of a sort recently. But more on that in a minute.

You need to hear at least some of the background. My friends and longtime readers deserve at least that much from me. But as you read this please understand that despite how it might sound, it really is all good.

I’ve mentioned here and elsewhere that my childhood was hellish at the best of times. I could go into detail as to how but I won’t. Many of you know it already and those of you who don’t, let’s just leave it at this, being beaten on a daily basis was the least of what happened. Oh well, life goes on.

I didn’t finish school. I had to earn money to help keep a roof over my family’s head. I’m not ashamed of what I did. It was at the time what I felt I had to do in order to protect the people I loved. I’ll never apologize for that. If I had done differently I wouldn’t have my oldest son nor my grandson in my life. And a life without them I can’t even bear to imagine.

That said, as I grew up, I always felt very insecure about my lack of a formal education. I’ve always been smart and able to get by despite getting constantly in my own way. But even while getting by I knew there was a better life out there and by better I don’t mean monetarily. I had money and plenty of it at one point. Having money doesn’t always mean having a better life, as I talked about a couple of posts ago.

I’m talking about learning how to follow your passions fully. About setting yourself on a path and achieving goals that enrich your life. For some that may be a career in the corporate world. For others a life in the arts or as a Doctor. The point is, I always knew that my life couldn’t, wouldn’t, mean a life of mediocrity and regret.

Yet when one of my bosses was overheard by me as having “limited options” due to a “poor background”, regret was all I could feel. Regret over not having gone back to school, not getting that education and as a result having to sit quietly while being talked about as if I were dirt. I agreed with him and I hated myself for it.

So I started going a bit crazy and posting all over the place about how much I hate that fetid cesspool in which I am forced to work. And though I’ve resolved much of that and have finally gained the courage to do those two things which I love, writing and cooking, I still doubted myself. I’m not a senior citizen but I’m entering fields where many younger and more educated people are already experts and dominate. What the hell chance did I have? Maybe the boss was right. Maybe where I am is where I should and always be.

Then I spent a few days with my sons and I saw what amazing people they are with each other, with the people around them and the almost brilliant aura of positive energy that travels with them wherever they go. I spoke with them together and individually and thought of their history and how, like me, they’ve encountered so many obstacles most of which should have killed them and yet here they stand and thrive. Though I can’t take full credit for this, it was truly a joint effort with many in the family, I still couldn’t help but be proud of them and of myself because I had a part in their lives.   And maybe, just maybe, I finally did something right.

Being a parent is a humbling experience. Because your life is no longer your own and you realize that not only are you responsible for another life but the things you teach this person will be carried wherever he/she goes in this world. Any contribution they make in this world, you will have had a part in. The lives they touch, the loves they share, the things they in turn pass on to their children will be based to a great extent on what you taught them.

All of this leads to the aforementioned vindication. While trying to get answers as to why I wasn’t being given the job which I was promised I was told that other people made themselves available for more. Something which I’ve done repeatedly but I didn’t have the chance to communicate this as all I was told, even by one of the higher ups in management, that I should have been more like Ms. W because she did a good job, because she always made herself available and made it known that she wanted a better job. Yes, I should be like this person. She was, in the words of this manager, “a real star”.

The star was fired because of severe wrongdoing the likes of which has left egg over all the faces of those who sang her praises and recommended her for the promotion. Which includes members of upper management.

To be honest I’m sorry this happened. Not because I feel anything towards the now former employee or the bosses but because unfortunately this person’s actions now make it doubly stressful for those she left behind. But then there’s that small part of me that says the bosses deserve this and would like nothing more than to tell each and every one of those, including the boss who thinks I’m dirt, to kiss my Gay Puerto Rican Ass!

But I don’t need to do that. Things happen for a reason. Maybe I needed to hear what was said about my limitations, as vile and condescending as it was, to finally get my life on track and have the courage to pursue my dreams. Maybe I needed to hear this to realize that I’m not half the screwup that others perceive me to be. Maybe I needed to hear this to remind myself that my life and what I do with it is mine to decide and to hell with what others think.

I start my first cooking class in a few days, my sons are doing well and my health has been holding up pretty damn well all things considered. All in all, things are good.

I have to apologize to you all, friends and readers, because this wasn’t what I had planned to write tonight.

But it was what I needed to share with you.

Remember to make every day a great memory!

A Family Recipe Passed On To My Sons

“Okay, now that you’ve committed, at least for now, to going to Cooking School you have to give me the Chicken Cutlet Parmagiana recipe! I’m a big boy now. I think I can handle it, Dad.”

“How old are you again, Son?” I ask.

“Thirty and you damn well know it.” He replied.

“And you’re a father also?”

“You wanna tell me where you’re taking this, Father?”

“You’re attempting to make a case at being a capable adult and yet you describe yourself as a big boy?” I grinned as he shook his head and held his hands up in surrender.

I LOVE busting my oldest son’s balls. I probably shouldn’t say that but I do. He was pleading with me yet again for the recipe his father and I had created years ago. Twenty five years ago to be exact.

“I’ll give it to you this very bloody weekend if you tell me one thing first.” I said.

“What’s that?”

“What’s wrong with your brother?” To be honest, I was going to give it to him this weekend anyway. But this way I didn’t have to try and pry the problem out of the teenager. Besides, one of the greatest things about these guys is that no matter how they got together, they consider themselves brothers. So it was pretty much a given that one of the other two knew the problem. Sibling bonding, a greater thing I cannot ask for.

“Care to be specific? I have two.”

“The seventeen year old brit. He’s been moping a bit.”

“Baby bro was telling me that sometimes he still feels out of place.”

“After all this time, I don’t know what else I can do to make him feel comfortable.”

“Dad, don’t make this about you. He knows he has us as family but he’s not always around us. Not only that but his history with us doesn’t go back that far so he has a limited pool of stories and references he can use.”

I thought about what my oldest told me and he was right. I had something in mind and discussed with him. After I received his consent I set out to make the seventeen year old a happy camper…hopefully.

“What’s up, kiddo?” I asked the teen.

“Not much. Great that we’re all together, huh?”

“You know it. Even greater that you’re here.”

“You don’t have to say that, Dad.”

“Even if it’s true? Listen, I know this family can be a bit much and that we all have big mouths. But this family is your family. Now tell me what this is really all about.”

“I dunno.” He shrugged.

“Your father and I probably won’t be getting back together. You know that, right? I mean, the only reason I can think of for why you may be feeling this way is because we’re not a couple and living all under one happy roof.”

“I guess I was secretly hoping something would happen, you know? I didn’t say anything but a part of me thought maybe you would. I’m sorry.”

I hugged the hell out of that kid. “Never apologize for feeling what you feel. And always know that you can talk to me about anything.”

“I do know that, Dad. I really do. That’s why I’m telling you now.”

“Fair enough. Listen, were you really serious about maybe wanting to learn how to cook?”

“No maybes. I want you to teach me!”

“Then get your little brother and meet me in the kitchen.”

The boys met my oldest and I in the kitchen where they noticed four bowls and a few Chicken Cutlets in front of them. “What’s all this?” The seventeen year old asked.

“With your big brother’s permission, we are going to make this family’s own Chicken Cutlet Parmagiana recipe for dinner.” The younger ones looked at their big brother.

“This is for you.” They said.

“This is for our family and that means you too.” He said.

“Actually, this is for you three only. This is the kind of thing a father passes on to his sons. This recipe has been in our family for twenty five years and has been shared with no one. As my sons, I am entrusting you to pass this on only to those worthy of being called your children. As I’m lucky enough to have, understand?”

After they all nodded their heads and the seventeen year old shared a private wink and mouthed “I love you” with me, we got to knocking out some great Chicken Cutlet Parmagiana.

Well…okay…they need a little work. It was, after all, their first shot. But hey! That only means we need to all get together soon to do it again!

And any time I can spend with these three amazing young men is fine with me!

Broke and Happy

It’s official, I’m never going to be a rich man.  And I’m perfectly fine with that.  Don’t misunderstand me, I’m all too aware of the capitalistic society in which we live.  It would be nice to take a few days off and go wherever I want.  It would be nice to buy whatever I needed without having to worry about how much it costs or how it will affect my budget or what I’m going to have to not buy in order to get that pair of shoes I need. I don’t want to cringe every time one of my boys asks for money for art supplies or a pair of sneakers. 

At the same time I don’t want to sacrifice my joy any longer for stressing out over all these things.  Do I want a better job?  I think everyone knows I do.  But I want it not solely for more money.  I want it because I believe in personal growth.  I believe in doing things that don’t necessarily make you rich but that ENRICH your life.

I bring this topic up because lately it seems to be one that many people I know are obsessed with.  It seems to me that they equate happiness with money.  And as someone who has had money and lost it I can tell you they are not always one and the same. 

Some of the best times I’ve had in my life were times when I just scraped together whatever was in the refrigerator and cooked it up and watched a couple of DVD’s with my friends.  Or just walking up and down Lincoln Road and enjoying the sun and people watching with only enough in my pockets to afford a soda.

Of course it’s nice to go out to clubs or upscale restaurants or vacations.  Of course I want to be able to afford nice clothes and a new car (though due to health reasons driving any car is out of the question right now).  But I’m no longer going to stress out over my inability to achieve these things.  Simply because there’s no reason for it.

 Though many people I know look down on it, I’m presently and for the foreseeable future, limited to taking public transportation.  And while it can be at times frustrating I’ve grown to accept it and even like it.  Yes that’s right sometimes I even like it. 

 Why?  Because I’m constantly reminded by my fellow bus and train riders that we’re all in this life together, whether we care to admit it, acknowledge it or not.  We all have struggles.  The single mother who carries a baby in one arm and her groceries in another because she too doesn’t have a car.  The man who’s hustling from one bus to another on his way to his second job because the first one barely pays the rent so the second one’s to cover food and light.

 I see these things on a daily basis and it gives me a reality check on a couple of levels.  First, that there are others far worse off than me, so I need to quit whining and deal.  Second, when I see and hear people I know talking about my bus riding as something beneath them all I can think of is that I’d rather ride a bus and be real than drive a car and act like them.  Because all it takes is the loss of a job, or a downturn in their health and they’ll be right next to me on that bus they scoffed at.

 I’m not saying don’t go out and get that better paying  job or don’t strive to have more money or nicer things.  But when the desire for those things begins overtaking you, when you look down on others forgetting that they are people too, when you think that your happiness is contingent upon being independently wealthy, then you just very well might want to reconsider your priorities.

 For me, I’m happiest when I’m just talking with my friends.  Sitting out in the sun and catching up on each other’s lives.  Sitting in their living rooms and watching a movie or a ball game.  I’m happy when I can just have some uninterrupted one on one conversations with my kids. 

Hell, just waking up to a new day gets me happy.  Because I get to do it all over again.  Some of it might cause me to scream.  Some of it might even make me want to cry.  But I embrace all of it because I’m alive and have the possibility to make new choices and have new experiences.  In short, every day I get a chance to make another great memory!

 A while ago I met an 82 year old lady on the bus.  She and some friends had just gotten back from a day at the beach “checking out all the old men” as she put it.  I laughed and she told me she has three boyfriends.  Each of them are as broke as she, but she gets on the bus and joins one of them (depending on the day) and has coffee with them.  They hold hands and walk around for a while if it’s not too unbearably hot.  Then they have lunch at McDonald’s , hold hands some more and have a “nice afternoon”.  I wasn’t going to even ask what that meant.  But she was happy!

 I told her I admired her for doing this.  And I’m going to tell  you in closing the same thing she told me when she was getting off the bus….

 “It’s not about the money baby.  Life’s too damn short!  Get out there and live it up!”

An Excellent Weekend – Part Two.

Okay so as you’ve already surmised, the first part of my weekend was excellent.  That is, despite the fact that my beloved Miami Hurricanes Football Team lost.  (Hey Clemson! KISS MY GAY PUERTO RICAN A$$!)

That’s right I’m not ashamed to say I’m still PISSED about this.  In a few days it’ll be over….EXCEPT THE FACT THAT CLEMSON SUCKS NOW AND ALWAYS!

Uh..’scuse me a moment.  *breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, breathe in*

Okay I’m back.  The second part of my weekend was as great as the first.  But in order for you to truly understand why I have to address something I brought up a couple of posts ago and some friends and readers have not forgotten.

I said I was in love.  And as soon as some people read this the emails, facebook comments and texts started coming in.  Some wanted to know who he is and others said something along the lines of “if you’re going back to your ex I’m kicking your ass!”

There is no new romance or old romance for that matter.  The love I have is an unrequited one and it will always be.  So here it is….I’m in love with Chef Scott Conant.  Yes, that’s right.  The same Chef whose recipes have intrigued me, fascinated me and left me awestruck.  The same Chef who writes about his love of cooking in a way the leaves me wanting more.

Well I’m not in love with him exactly.  It’s more like I’m in love with his talent.  I read his books and how he got started and was impressed.  I continued to read each recipe and while there are some I probably won’t try, I couldn’t help but get carried away with the way he explained how each ingredient works together to form a great dish.

Which now brings us to the second part of my excellent weekend.  My first attempt at one of his dishes.  Pan Roasted Chicken with Potatoes and Olives.  Accompanying this was a salad of Cherry Tomatoes marinated in Balsamic Vinegar, Basil and Oregano.  Also Baby Greens with a Red Wine Balsamic Dijon Vinaigrette.

I wasn’t too worried about the salad.  It was simple enough and I’ve done variations on this before.  The Chicken, however, was a whole other story.  I couldn’t see it coming together.  Usually when I attempt a new dish I can visualize the end result.  As simple as this dish sounded, and ultimately was, I couldn’t see it.

But never say die, right?  So onward and upward it was.  I seasoned the Chicken Breasts liberally with Sea Salt (my preference though Chef’s recommendation was Kosher Salt) and Black Pepper.  While I was doing this my deep skillet was heating with two tablespoons of Olive Oil.  Once heated I put the Chicken Breasts in skin side down.  When they were browned and the skin crisp I turned them over and lowered the heat.

While this was cooking I chopped a yellow onion, as the recipe requested, and peeled and cut five Yukon Gold Potatoes (fingerling potatoes is a suggested alternate).  Then I added the Onions to the Chicken and stirred occasionally and partially covered the pan.  Ten minutes later I added the potatoes and it was then that I saw it coming together.

The juices from the Chicken combined with the onion formed a nice broth which will now be absorbed by the potatoes.  And about twelve minutes later when I added the Olives, I could see this was the perfect finishing touch.  Plus which the aroma that filled the house was driving everyone crazy.

The dish was a runaway success.  Everyone loved it.  And believe me I was so glad this came out well because we needed some comfort food when we started seeing the Dolphins lose.  THE SAINTS SUCK EVEN WORSE THAN CLEMSON!

Um, okay, I digress.  Back to the food.  Needless to say it’s the greatest feeling when something  you’ve done to the best of your ability is recognized by your loved ones as a success.  But what I learned from this was that I must always remember to keep my mind open to new ideas.

Yes, this very simple dish taught me one of my greatest lessons.

And I really needed this as I started watching my New York Giants lose to Arizona (SCREW YOU CARDINALS!!!).

An Excellent Weekend – Part One

Here’s an idea for an excellent weekend.  Start by going out to breakfast with your family.  Talk about everything and nothing.  The topics don’t really matter.  Just start your Saturday being around your loved ones and some great food.

Then go to a well stocked supermarket and proceed to buy the ingredients you need for the dishes you’ve decided to make.  Start with your proteins, pass through the dairy area, visit the deli section briefly and then go to your produce section.  If it’s a good one, if it has things you’ve only heard of but never tried, if the aromas from the pepper and fresh herb areas grab you and pull you to them, regardless of whether you were headed there or not, then you’re going to have had a very good morning.  But whatever you do, DON’T forget to say hi to the bakery before you leave Nirvana.

Then go back home and watch some College Football.  Work up an appetite by cheering for your favorite teams and booing the ones you can’t stand (LIKE FREAKIN’ CLEMSON!!!!) um…oops!  Allow me to digress…

As I said work up that appetite, go into that kitchen and break out three of the Poblano Chile Peppers you picked up during your trip to heaven. Grab a couple of the Mini Sweet Red Peppers and a couple of the Mini Sweet Yellow Peppers that wouldn’t let you pass them by at the Supermarket and cut them up and throw them in the food processor.  Don’t start it up yet though.

Cut up an Onion.  Yellow or white, it doesn’t matter which, and throw that in with the Peppers and then take two fresh Jalapenos.  You know the ones I’m talking about.  Those two blemish free, beautifully green flamers that screamed out “Daddy, take me home!”

Now be careful with the seeds because that’s where their heat, also known by me as their soul, is.  Add as many as you think you can take to the food processor and now you may begin.  All those beautiful colors will be reduced to a mixture that is the key to making the best Burgers you’ll ever have.

Then take the two pounds of Ground Beef you picked up during the protein portion of your journey and put them it in a huge mixing bowl.  Take the Pepper and Onion mixture and mix all of it in with the Beef.  Don’t be afraid to get your hands dirty!  Really knead this all together.  Once you’re done understand that these two entities need time to get to know each other so leave them alone and let them have a little time to bond.  You still have some work to do.

Go back into your bag of goodies and take out the Pecorino Romano Cheese (if this wasn’t available, I’m assuming you got a bag of Monterey Jack/Cheddar during your soujourn into the dairy section) you picked up in the deli and grate some of it onto one half of the French Hamburger Rolls you got at the bakery.  Then take five and go back to the game and make sure your team is winning and work a little more on that appetite.

On your way back to the meat mixture grab some minced garlic (I usually keep a jar on hand but Garlic Powder will do) and a bottle of Worcestershire sauce.  I don’t generally measure except when specifically called for (yes I remember my little issue with the Sausage & Pepper Pasta recipe).  However since this is a recipe solely of your own creation do with these two beauties what you will.  Add as much or as little as you like and knead that into the mixture.

Form your patties and cook them as you like, grill or fry.  While they cook put the French Hamburger Rolls into the toaster oven and lightly toast enough to brown them and melt the cheese.  The perfect accompaniment to this is an ice cold Newcastle Brown Ale.  However if minors are present and soda or tea is all that’s available, so be it.

Go back to your game with your burger bursting with pride at having created a masterpiece for yourself and your family and at seeing how much they enjoyed it.  And you know something?  It won’t matter that the burgers were juicy, well cooked with just enough heat to give it a kick.  Though it certainly helps.

It won’t even matter that your team may be losing (CLEMSON SUCKS NOW & ALWAYS!!!!).  What will matter is that you spent the first part of your weekend with people you love and who love you.  And you were doing something you absolutely love.

But wait, like I said that was only the first part of the weekend.  The best is yet to come. But we can talk about that tomorrow.  Why not just stay with this and enjoy the fact that you accomplished yet another great feat, you turned an ordinary day into a wonderful memory!

A Letter To My Sister

It has been slightly over twelve years since you’ve died and I’ve been thinking about you recently. That is to say you’ve been on my mind more than you usually are. And it’s not just me, my other sister has been thinking about you also.

I miss you kid. There’s just no other way to put it. This family misses you. We’ve moved on, or at least we’ve tried. But it has been excruciatingly difficult. And yes, as I write this I’m reminded of what you always used to say , “Quit bitching about hard times and pain. At least you know you’re still alive and if you’re alive you always have a chance to make things better.”

I think that’s part of why you’ve been in my head so much. Because I feel, for the first time in a very long time, that I am finally on the path to making things better. I just wish you were here to see it and while I understand that you’re always here in the preternatural sense, I’m talking physically here. I miss the hugs, your laughter and yes, even the occasional slap to the back of my head. Well, okay, they were more than occasional and I deserved each one and I miss them.

Guess what? Remember when I said things are getting better? One of those ways is by doing something I truly love to do. I’m going to try my hand at cooking. Yes, I know, you told me to do this twenty years ago and I’m a stubborn son of a bitch. But better late than never, right?

I’m kind of thinking this would deserve one of those aforementioned slaps to my head right about now.

I’m good at it, Sis. And you know better than anyone that I had to overcome a world of abuse, low self esteem and pain. You took me to the hospital after that monster beat me and left me for dead, twice. You nursed me back to health when I tried to kill myself thinking that was the only way I’d be free of him. And I’m so very grateful to you for that. Because if I had died back then, I never would have lived to see your kids grow up and become extraordinary human beings. I never would have seen my own sons embark on their lives and thrive.

I never would have seen and appreciate this big, crazy family the way I do right now. I would never have come to appreciate and understand that I actually have something to contribute, that I actually have some value…that I am far better than I ever thought I was.

The family is doing well. Oh they, we, are still the biggest freaks in the world. And yes I say that with pride since there is at this point nothing I can do but embrace the insanity. I mean, only in this family can you and I share the same grandchild. And he is AMAZING, by the way! Only in this family can your son be my son in law without breaking any natural or genetic laws. Only in this family can I be both Uncle and Father to the same child thereby making you an Aunt to him twice over. And he too is a phenomenal person.

Only in this family can a kid living on the streets of Manchester, England become my son and an integral part of my heart. Only in this crazy patchwork quilt of a family can all this happen. But we wouldn’t have it any other way.

It was you who taught me that family is not always about blood and DNA. It was you who taught me that love is more powerful than any of that and lasts far longer. You were a good teacher, Sis. And though you left some pretty big shoes to fill, I hope I’ve at least been half the teacher you were.

I love you, Sis, and I always will.

Less Whining, More Cooking!

Things have been very interesting lately. I’ll admit that my first few steps on this the next journey of my life have not been as strong or as steady as I would like. And on more than one occasion I’ve been tempted to give up and just keep trudging along at the job from hell or one just like it.

Then a couple of things happened. First, the day after my meltdown on losing my transfer bid I received a call from Miami Dade College inviting me to a Tuscan class that will be happening in a couple of weeks. Since Italian Cuisine is one of my interests I couldn’t say no. Second, some of my friends and readers have encouraged me to never give up.

A couple of people simply said “Don’t ever give up, keep on going”. One said “Don’t ever be complacent”. Another said “It’s all about moving forward in a positive direction, don’t forget that.” Which I almost did I must admit. And then there was my oldest son in New York.

“Excuse me, but you’re really serious about cooking, aren’t you?”

“I am. Or at least I think I am.”

“And the job is just a way to pay the bills and your classes until you can get to do what you really want to do, right? I mean, it’s just a means to an end, correct?”

“You’re right and yes, that’s what it is.”

“Then would you please get the fuck over this thing with the job already and get on with your cooking?”

When faced with that logic, and also with the fact that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I had given up before even really starting, I decided to get the hell over myself and continue. I can’t be complacent any longer. I can’t give up what I feel I’m good at, what I know in my soul to be one of my passions in favor of a paycheck that does nothing but keep me in a place, both physically and emotionally, that is nothing more than a silent hell.

One of my friends who chimed in was right, the place where I work is killing me. It’s eating away at my soul and it finally succeeded in making me physically sick last week. No job has ever done that to me before…and not this job, or any other, will ever do that to me again.

So, with forward motion firmly in mind, I have to make an admission here….I lied. Well sort of anyway. Allow me to explain…

When I first started this blog, as I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, I said I wasn’t going to cook the recipes from anyone’s cookbook. But then I read New Italian Cooking by Chef Scott Conant and found some very interesting recipes. Not stopping there I continued with his next book, Bold Italian and I decided that over the next few weeks I will be cooking some of the recipes that really spoke to me from both books.

And I won’t be stopping there. As I’ve said, in addition to Italian Cuisine I want to learn Spanish and Caribbean Cuisine also. So I have a lot of work ahead of me. I don’t have anymore time to feel sorry for myself or throw a temper tantrum simply because things aren’t going the way I think they should. I mean, who’s to say that my way would have been the best way?

At various points of my life, things didn’t go how I wanted them to go or how I thought they should go and yet they turned out great! My sons are three stellar examples of that.

So less whining and more cooking!

Next up…Chicken Legs with Cumin and a Risotto!

Cooking With My Son – The Sequel

With my mental health (such as it is, for whatever it’s worth) restored after my meltdown over my job last week, I set out to perfect my Sausage & Pepper Pasta dish. A few friends and readers made some very good suggestions. However I had already tried them so I was at a loss. How was I going to make this recipe work?

I reviewed the recipe and made sure I measured everything correctly and didn’t deviate. That would happen later when I got the basic formula mastered. And it was then that I realized how much of an idiot I’ve been. I had already deviated from the original recipe! How, you may ask?

Here’s a quote from my first “Cooking With My Son” post: And one pound of Mild Italian Sausage thrown in for good measure!

The recipe never called for Mild Italian Sausage, only Spicy. Could that have tipped the balance not in my favor?

“First learn the right way and then add your own style. Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me about learning art?” My son asks.

“Yes that’s what I’ve said. Son, are we going to have another session of you using my words against me?”

“I have to admit, it’s kinda fun.” He laughs.

I shrugged it off and let him have his fun. Especially since he was right. I just concentrated on working out this recipe. So this time I did it again and omitted the Mild Italian Sausage.

Was I nervous? Of course I was! I want to learn three cuisines, Spanish, Carribbean and Italian. I’ve started reading up on Italian Cuisine which of course varies from region to region and this dish was one of the simpler ones. If I can’t get this right, should I hang up my apron before I even get started?

No David, don’t EVEN think that way! That’s what you’ve done most of your life. SUCK IT UP, MAN!!!

I added the Pasta to the Sausage & Pepper mixture. I added the Pecorino and one cup of the Pasta water as instructed. I did EVERYTHING as instructed. So how did it come out?

SUCCESS!!!!! The Pasta was cooked to perfection. The Sausage was perfectly browned and wait for it…..no oversalting!

“You see what happens when you listen to me, young man?” My favorite 16 year old said.

“I’m listening to you son, but I’m wondering how many times I’m going to let you do this before I ground you?” I joke.

“I got only one more thing to say, Dad.”

“What’s that?”

“I Love You!”

Okay so I couldn’t ground him for that. Besides, I was too happy at getting it right and too full from eating my masterpiece!

Next up…I lied and I think I’m in love!

An Epiphany….I’m Insane

It has been said that the textbook definition of insanity is doing the exact same thing over and over again yet expecting different results.  In many of my previous articles published elsewhere, especially during the Presidential Campaign, I accused the republican party of this.  I did so because I truly felt that theirs is a one note message that has had many opportunities for success and to prove everyone wrong and yet it still hasn’t worked.  Yet they continue selling it.

It dawned on me earlier today that I, too, fall under this definition of insanity.  Though not for political reasons.

A couple of weeks ago I decided to put a bid in for a transfer at my job.  Rather I should say I put another bid in for a transfer, my fourth to be exact.  I finally received a call from the manager in charge of the department who said there was a computer and written skills test to take and if I passed this I would then be interviewed.  To be honest I thought this a bit much but at the same time I also understood that the idea behind this is to make sure you have people in place who know what they’re doing.

The people in this department are going to be writing letters and communicating with others both in and out of the company and they’re going to be doing this many times on behalf of upper management.  So you need people with more than a braincell or two.  I get it, I really do.

I was fairly confident I’d make it.  Especially when the writing skills test was to craft a letter on behalf of the Vice President of the company to a customer.  This is my thing.  Like I said in an earlier post, I’m good at Customer Service.  I’m a fairly decent writer and I have years, YEARS of experience not only in Customer Service but in writing professional correspondence for corporate officers.  Did I say I have YEARS of experience?  How about FIFTEEN FREAKING YEARS!!!!

So here I am at test time.  After being assured that the writing was what I needed to focus on I got slammed by the computer skills portion.   The company uses several different systems but for customer service there’s only one and on that system, I have knowledge but only from an accounting viewpoint.  Ask me about reservations and upgrading people and various other things that have ABSOFREAKINLUTELY NOTHING to do with accounting and I’m lost.

So guess what 98% of the test was about…..you guessed it!  So what happened to my chances…..yeah, you guessed that also!

An hour after I took the test I got the “thank you very much for applying for the position but…”  Needless to say I was not happy.  I asked what happened and it was explained to me that since this is an “master access department” the skills of the individual they hired had to be “top notch” and while I possess a certain amount of skill and I do have experience (FIFTEEN FREAKING YEARS!!!!) I just didn’t display enough to pass the computer skills test.

But what kills me more than this is the fact that I had the opportunity to read six of the letters the other would be candidates wrote.  And I’m sorry BUT THEY WERE CRAP!!!

The letter was to be one in which the VP is helping some guests achieve a resolution via receiving an upgrade or a credit they can use.  One person’s letter was one long run on sentence.  “dear (fill in the blank) i’m very very sorry you encountered this problem and we’d really like to resolve this issue for you and we really value your business and don’t want to lose you so we’d like to arrange a credit for you to use thank you and we hope to be of service to you in the future”  Seriously, that’s one of the letters.  And before you say “well, maybe they were good on computer but obviously bad in writing and they won’t make it either”…..WRONG!!!  The person who wrote this cute little missive…..WAS INTERVIEWING WITH THE MANAGER AS I ARRIVED FOR MY TEST!!!

I sat at the bus stop, thinking about the time I’ve put in at that job and the shit I’ve taken and the obvious fact that it will not be getting better anytime soon and I got physically sick.  Yes, that’s right, when faced with the fact that my foreseeable future with this place is nothing but more of the same if not worse, I literally threw up.  But that’s when it came to me, I’m fucking insane.  Four times I’ve tried to get a transfer and four times I’ve been shot down and with the weakest of excuses.  And this doesn’t include my recent screwing over by my “boss”.  Four times I’ve done the exact same thing yet expecting different results…but no longer.

Yes, I’ve written at length my thoughts on my job.  Yes, I’m working to take my life and career in a different direction.  But to do this takes money and I also have bills to pay and family to support.  So just up and leaving this job is not something I can readily do despite the fact that some of my friends continue telling me to just get out.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t look elsewhere and hopefully find something that will sustain me until I get to where I want to be with cooking and/or writing.  And that is all I intend to do from now on.  I’m done wasting energy and time in a place that claims to care for people as long as those people are their customers and not their employees.  I’m done trying to go for jobs only to be given the boot in favor of people who literally have difficulty spelling “madam”.  (No lie, one of the other letters opened with a “Dear Madmam” and that was the least of the spelling/grammatical errors)

As far as this job is concerned…I’m just done.  I’ll stick it out until I can find something else.

From now on, it’s about me.