Starting Over ~ Life in the Day Camp

Posted on August 6, 2013 by Linda Barrett

EASY AS PIE???

Pecan pie–this one’s too nice to be mine!

i’m writing this blog on Sunday afternoon while waiting for my home-made pecan pie to come out of the oven. You heard right. This New York born gal, who can do justice to an apple or blueberry pie, is trying her hand at the quintessential Southern pecan pie for the very first time. It wasn’t my idea. I don’t even like pecan pies But preparing one was my assignment.

Tonight, my golfer guy and I are going to the neighborhood Dine-In. On the first Sunday evening of every other month, the neighbors get together in each other’s homes with a pre-determined dinner menu. There is usually a theme, and each couple brings an assigned dish—enough to serve about eight people. There are usually about six dinner hosts. Afterwards between 36-48 participants gather at the dessert host’s house for coffee and….whatever.

Tonight my pecan pie is on that dessert menu. Oy.

I’m calling it an experiment because right from the beginning, the instructions puzzled me. The recipe called for one 9-inch pie shell, unbaked. So I walked down the supermarket’s baking aisle and bought a graham cracker crust pie shell.

“No, no, no,” my friend and neighbor said when I met her on the street. “Not graham cracker. Not that I’ve ever made a pecan pie before either. But I think you’re supposed to buy a shell from the frozen food department.”

“What?”

She laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you one of mine. They come two in a package.”

Problem solved. Neither of us really knew about this, but Maggie sounded a lot more confident than I felt.

The next ingredient: 4 tablespoons butter, softened. Why couldn’t I just use Smart Balance, my already softened buttery spread? The canister said it was good for baking. But my golfer guy said, “Better not. I’ll run to the store again. What should I buy?”

“I don’t think butter is sold in single sticks.” Now I’m picturing 3 ½ sticks of real butter going to waste.

But that was nothing compared to: ½ cup cane syrup (no substitute). I didn’t even know what cane syrup was. In my pantry, I had molasses and Caro light corn syrup. But wait! Light corn syrup was another ingredient on the recipe list. So, on our initial trip to the supermarket, when we bought the wrong crust, Mike and I searched for cane syrup. We found a jar of 35% cane syrup. That was the highest percentage among the brand selection. We bought it because I was scared of the no substitution order.

We also bought a pint of heavy whipping cream because it was on the list. I thought it had to be blended into the bowl with the other ingredients. Wrong! I was supposed to whip it and serve alongside the pie. But the dessert was to be delivered to the hostess at 6 p.m. The guests wouldn’t arrive until 9. That just didn’t seem right to me. What would happen to whipped cream during those three hours? What if the hostess had no room in her fridge?

So, along with the graham cracker crust, Mike returned the heavy cream to the store. I told him to buy a container of Cool Whip instead. Yes, substitution! It could go in either a freezer or fridge.

Not finished yet. Directions: add eggs to softened butter and sugar one at a time, beating until light and fluffy, but not foamy.

Give me a break! Fluffy? Foamy? In my mind, they’re pretty close.

And finally, after adding the syrups and the other ingredients including chopped pecans, the directions said to “mix until well blended.” Does that mean to use the electric mixer which I’d used to get to “fluffy”? Or blend by hand? I thought the pecans would become mush with the beaters, so I did it by hand.

When I learned to bake with my grandma, everything she did made sense. I was able to understand a little of this and a little of that. I was there! Why are there so many guessing games with what should be a straight-forward recipe? One printed out from a recipe website? Am I overthinking? Or am I just ~~dumb~~ inexperienced?

Hold on a minute…the timer is ringing. I’ll be right back.

This one’s mine!

Hi again. Good news! It smells right. The middle is swollen, but I think it’s going down. Mike’s betting on a winner. I’ll let you know what happens.

I’m back again with the morning after report: my pie disappeared in the first five minutes. Everyone commented on the slight orange-y flavor. The recipe called for orange peel. I didn’t know how to make that, so I decided two teaspoons of orange zest would do (I know what that is), And they loved it. Phew! So, anyone for pie?

I think there has to be an art in writing clear directions for recipes. What do you think? Can you follow a recipe easily? Or have you had similar experiences to mine? Please share if you have tips!

ANNOUNCEMENT!! WE HAVE A WINNER OF JULY’S CONTEST. Congratulations to Beth Reimer who chose Material Witness by Lisa Mondello and my Family Interrupted as her two book selection. She has also won a $25 gift certificate to Amazon. I hope she enjoys shopping for more books!

NEW CONTEST FOR AUGUST: Leave a comment and your name will be entered into this month’s contest. Prizes are one of the three selections below, all written by the authors of On Fire Fiction, as well as a $25 gift certificate to Amazon or BN. Your choice!

Starting Over ~ Wasting Time or Recharging?

Posted on August 1, 2013 by Linda Barrett

LEAVE ME ALONE!

When my oldest son was about thirteen years old, I found him lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, hands behind his head. His knees were bent and one leg crossed over the other. The afternoon light penetrated the room. I couldn’t stand it.

“What are you doing?”

“Mom! Can’t I just do nothing for awhile? I never get to do nothing.”

Well, that gave me pause. Fair enough. As working mom, I’d made sure my kids were programmed from morning til night, particularly after school. Between homework, bar-mitzvah classes, a newspaper route, and a basketball team, my son may have had a point. So I said, “Okay. Let me know when you’re ready to return to the world.”

That little incident has stayed with me, and I’ve sometimes repeated it when friends talk about kids and their activities. I’ve learned that my generation was not the first to program their kids. From what I can gather, my son was lucky. Kids today don’t have a minute to daydream. Between soccer, dancing, music, gymnastics, scouts, Little League, clubs….there is a team or a class for every age, every stage and every wage. Classes cost.

Another dream deferred…until now?

We want to give our children everything. Or at least, as much as we possibly can afford. But I wonder if what they most need is time. A free commodity. Which will allow dreams to flourish, creativity to develop, and the mind and body to rest and rejuvenate. Even children need peace of mind. I’m glad some others think like I do:

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.” ….John Lubbock.

My dreamtime occurs in the early morning hours, before my eyes open, before my brain is fully engaged. In that delicious time between sleeping and waking, my mind drifts to the stories I’m writing, and I usually solve a problem. It drifts to this blog, and a new topic that might interest me. I dream about my own mother and father and miss them to tears. During my dreamtime hours, my mind is free to wander. It conjures up images I didn’t know I had inside me. I love those moments because something good usually results from them. When I actually get out of bed, I’m not only refreshed, but I can’t wait to get to the computer.

Ladies First Choice in Clearwater, FL

We need time to reconnoiter with ourselves. I found the quote from John Lubbock printed in a newsletter from Ladies First Choice, a “stylish ladies boutique” for women who’ve had mastectomies. Women who know that “rest is not a waste of time.” Rest is mandatory for healing and becoming whole again. That’s right. A whole woman–in mind, body and spirit. The breast is not the person. While fighting for our lives, our dreams are laced with nightmares. When we regain our health, our minds can rest.

An active life deserves time for thinking and daydreaming. Just ask my busy son. Who still fights for a moment to do “nothing.”

What about you? Are there times of the day that are natural dream hours for you? Do you close yourself away from the family for awhile each day? Refuse to answer the phone?

As always, thanks so much for stopping by. I hope to see you for the next edition of Starting Over when I’ll announce the winner of the July contest.

LEAVE A COMMENT AND YOUR NAME WILL BE ENTERED INTO MY JULY CONTEST. Prizes are a choice of two books from the selection below, written by the authors of On Fire Fiction. Plus a $25 gift certificate to Amazon or BN. Remember, some of these stories are hot, hot, hot while others….not so much. Your choice!

Starting Over ~ Dive Right In

Posted on July 30, 2013 by Linda Barrett

I’m one of those people who eat to live, not live to eat. So I wouldn’t call myself a foodie. But there are definite exceptions to my take-it-or-leave-it eating habits. Why is it that I find the very best meals, meals that I would become a foodie for, in the small, elbows-on-the-table kind of places. You know the ones I mean. No tablecloths. Order at the counter. Grab your own plastic utensils and drinks. And then wait for your order to appear on giant paper plates.

When I discover a dive that sets my taste buds singing, I’m in heaven. At that moment, it’s all about the food. These place don’t depend on ambiance because there isn’t any. But the food…? OMG! Whether ethnic, American, breakfasts, lunches or dinners, I don’t care. When I find an eatery that makes we want to keep it on my list of “regulars,” I’m so happy.

I love Greek food. In Houston, I ate at Niko Niko’s, which i think I mentioned in an earlier post. I lunched there every week, never minding the wait to order. You can imagine that I sure wasn’t the only one in the place at lunchtime. The meal was worth the wait. Eventually, long after I discovered it and long after the owners enlarged it, the Food Network discovered it, too. It was featured on Drive-Ins, Diners, and Dives. But I get a kick out of know that I was there first!

I never, ever thought I’d find another Niko’s in Florida. But…drum roll please — I did!

Leave it to my golfer guy to drag me to this little place where the restrooms are in the outside of the building. What the H…? But clean inside. And the gyros…freshly sliced meat, and oh, oh, oh! The homemade tzatziiki sauce..(picture me kissing my finger tips). Delicious! The Greek salad, always one of my choices was delicious, too. So, now I’ll got to Peck’s for a real gyro and Greek salad. A new great dive. Maybe one day, it will be discovered by the Food Network. In the meantime, they’ve opened a second location – same family ownership – and everyone who goes there raves about it.

Just for the record, I’m picky about Italian food, too. There’s Italian and then there’s ITALIAN–when that first forkful of lasagna almost melts in your mouth, and you know you’re in Italy. This goes for pizza joints, too. I will try any pizza joint once. But it’s got to be way above average to land on my list of regulars.

Now, let’s switch gears and talk about pancakes. Why? Because I love them! I had a place in Houston called Frank’s. For $5.75, you ordered from a big breakfast menu…which was available throughout the day. Frank’s pancakes with a side of thick bacon slices got me through the weeks of chemo and visits to the plastic surgeon when my expanders were being filled in order to get me ready for implants. That experience was worse than the chemo, which in hindsight wasn’t too bad. I really looked forward to my pancakes at Frank’s as my reward for the fills. The portions of food were bigger than my stomach could hold. The pancakes, themselves, were the size of the dinner plate. But again, I was in heaven. Have I mentioned that I love pancakes? French toast, too. And Belgian waffles.

Once more in Florida, my sweetie took me for a ride. First, of course, we have to accomplish something. We never just “go for a ride.” In this case, we dropped off donations at Goodwill, which was a bit self-serving as we got to clean out the garage a bit. After unloading the car, my golfer guy says, “I know a place…for pancakes.” Well, he didn’t have to ask me twice. Off we drove to Poppi’s.

Pancakes and sausage at Frank’s.

It might have been Franks. It looked so similar with the casual booths and tables–no cloths–and with the efficient and friendly waitstaff. Windows all around. But the true test is always measured by the food. The pancakes matched the circumference of the plate. Oh, yeah. Three strips of bacon sat on the side dish. My heart started doing a tango. I drizzled the maple syrup just on the part I would cut. My fork slipped through the two layers, and I ladled it into my mouth.The outside of the pancake had a slight crispy coat–unusual and delicious. Rapture! Another OMG moment for me. I’d found home. In Florida.

I won’t embarrass myself in a high class French restaurant. But I’m basically a low maintenance gal who appreciates quality in the basics. I can usually take it or leave it in regard to food. Truly, I’m not a foodie. But if I visit some good dives on a regular basis, I just might become one.

How about you? Do you have a favorite inexpensive restaurant that sets your palette singing? A favorite food style that you MUST have from time to time? Let me know in the comment section.

As always, that so much for stopping by. I hope to see you for the next edition of Starting Over.

LEAVE A COMMENT AND YOUR NAME WILL BE ENTERED INTO MY JULY CONTEST. Prizes are a choice of two books written by the award-winning writers of On Fire Fiction, plus a $25 gift certificate to Amazon or BN. Remember, some of these stories are hot, hot, hot, while others…not so much. Your choice!