Category Archives: Uncategorized

My second cooking school was in Italy. The chef was Piero. There were seventeen of us, mostly with a spouse or a gal from home. We had fun going to farmers’ markets, bakeries and a premier restaurant. Plus lessons, of course.

Often in restaurants they keep the oven at a certain temperature and the cook must judge the timing of a dish based on that constraint. Or use the Salamander (broiler). When asked, Chef Piero would always say “eight minutes.”

I had already joked with him about the eight minute rule so set up one of my colleagues to ask “how long?” We all called out EIGHT MINUTES!!! He laughed.

I rarely take out the ironing board but have a wonderful iron, a Rowenta. No more $8 irons for me! The board leaves much to be desired as it is flimsy and light and does not deserve a Rowenta.

There were a couple of my shirts to be ironed, which still hasn’t been done, and my husband asked why I didn’t just send them out with his shirts. I’ve not done that in a long time and I think I didn’t deserve that and had to wash and iron them myself. I’ve been sending my husband’s shirts out for years.

A few years ago my mother-in-law was visiting. I bought an inexpensive white denim . jacket that she insisted on “blinging” so I’ve silver around the collar and along the back horizontal seam. There is a peace symbol on the right arm and a LO VE symbol on the back. I’m thinking of the Beatles. I’ve another love symbol in script to iron-on and have ordered another and washed the jacket yesterday, hung it to dry and just need to iron it. I figure some of the old people in the neighborhood will recognize “Love, Love, Love” as the Beatles.

Flowers. I’d love to grow them. Tonight I saw a DIY piece on making a trellis and hanging flowers and herbs outdoors in coffee filters, ensconced in diy gutter boxes. I could do that on our balcony, we grill (he grills) out there but we have never taken a seat out there. Buying cut flowers is a chore, always re-doing arrangements. I’ve one on my desk for Dad, one for our immediate family made of three mini milk bottles (my husband grew up on a dairy), now one for his uncle who died last week. And one for fun.

He doesn’t notice the flowers, just knows they are present. I started getting scientific vessels so he would notice that after 16 years I started to buy HIM flowers (flasks and a graduated cylinder, even framed an old print of said items for him) to no avail. Ah, well, what is a wife and writer to do. I know, these days I’m “just the wife.” He might notice if the flowers were absent.

I realize that most of the art works in our home are from me and my family, as he just doesn’t care. Our home should reflect both of us but like the sole plastic colander he brought to our kitchen from college days, he has not brought much to the table for me to frame. His folks are moving after 40 years in their family home. I’ve been offered his high school graduation photo by his mother the other day and have the perfect spot for it. Next I get to go through his baby book, another gift from his dear Mom. Cheers! Dee

Hello Germany! My father grew speaking only German at home. His father fled in the late 20’s and supposedly jumped ship in the NY harbor, where his wife and he left for more Germanic views. His mother was from Switzerland, spoke German of course. We lost Dad last year.

I’ve an assistant who comes by once a week for an hour, or two. She helps me with a few things I cannot do for myself because of old age and arthritis. She’s great at measuring and hanging pictures, as well.

Yes, she does “spiff” our home. Others have her take all their bedding out to be cleaned, cook, take out the dog, and pack boxes for them while designing and buying furnishings for the huge home they moved into.

Ms. B does not do our sheets, dishes, cook, walk our dog or look into the refrigerator or take out the trash or recycling. That is my job. There are certain cultures who are used to having a number of servants for everything they need. It would scare me to have a live-in assistant because I am a lifetime advocate of personal privacy. The NSA monitors this and anything I write and any phone conversation. The IRS monitors everything else. There is no place to have personal peace these days. I hear that cell phones monitor conversations even while off.

I don’t need much. Having a husband and a cool old dog is OK with me. Last week I was at the hardware store and a few things were in the dollar box. I spent $4 with tax. All culinary items. My husband questioned me on it and I said “you just spent $500 on a rolling laptop bag and you’re asking me about $4?” Enough said.`Cheers, Dee

So, when I was out of college I traveled around Europe with a backpack and stayed at pensions where one could exchange books for free, as in give a book, get a book. It was a worthy service.

Yesterday I went to a book box in a local neighborhood and got two books. Today, I returned with four to donate, but got a further two. Whoopsie, I’ll have to donate four back. That is just my theory. I like donating to this volunteer service because I grew up reading books since age four and tend to collect said items.

Before age eight I had read Death Be Not Proud and The Diary of Anne Frank. Now my eyes are failing. The school went to phonics and two of us were already reading so we had to sit in the back of the room and read our own tomes. His were about baseball and mine were history, horses, ballet, whatever I could get my hands on from the local library. It was slim pickin’s in a village of 400. My sister and I couldn’t get our hands on a play we could or wished to put on for the family (we actually issued tickets) so we started with dear Charlie Brown. I was always Lucy and young brother was Snoopy. My younger sister was anyone else.

Three things my mother did for me, she gave me life, she averted the Catholic school the Church wanted to send me to, and she talked to the principal to assure that I would not be forced to learn phonics as I’d known how to read for years as I taught my sister when she was four years old. God bless her for those gifts.

With the internet and blogs I read much less. Yesterday I picked up a baby board book I gave to a neighbor and a novel, then donated two novels, a picture book and a cooking book. Today, for my husband I picked up Opera For Dummies, I’ve yet to take him to one but I did get him to see the ballet, once. Also, a gourmand’s cookbook which I’ve yet to open since it’s been less than an hour since I walked there and I had to check on our old dog and run some laundry.

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Love, love, love. The Beatles. I just washed a white Old Navy denim jacket that did not come out pristine, I used Zout on the cuffs and neck. I’m drying it on a hanger and will probably use more Zout and then bleach it tomorrow, when I throw in some of my husband’s t-shirts he only uses on weekends, stained with tomato sauce from his brief culinary expeditions into spaghetti and meatball land. At least we can use these white items for dog-walking….

Anyway, my loved one’s mother blinged out this jacket and I’ve LO VE on the back and just found an iron-on love in script. One more and I’ll have a Beatles song along the back. I’m sure a local artist will love that. The jacket even has a peace sign on she sewed onto one sleeve. Thanks to M, this jacket is art so I’ll have to make sure it is fully clean before adding anything else. Of course I only wash it buttoned and turned inside-out and then hang it to dry.  It is almost spring, with peace and love, Dee

Learn one new thing per day. Reach out and talk to someone and learn something small or remarkable. You might learn something non-pharmaceutical that helps an earache or another that allows your pet to eliminate normally.

Yesterday I learned that my husband hates roasted kale. Lightly dressed with olive oil (the good stuff), salt and pepper and crispy I think he tried one piece and left the rest on his plate. At least he tried it! My aunts always made me try something before they let me know what was in it.

I would try it, like it and they’d give me the recipe. That is how I first learned to cook.

Politics taught me too many things a day but I kept up. 750 bills to manage, no assistance, no computers, everything by hand. I learned a lot, every day, those years and developed my own systems for bills, and for randy elected officials and legal counsel.

“Good to see you sir!” Suggestive comment from him. “And how is Mary, and is Amy doing well in art school?” Oops, Dee is a few years older than my daughter. End of threat.

The worst line ever, that I was called into a high government official’s office for, for him to nearly turn over his chair for laughing, was from one of their lawyers. “You’re an attractive woman, I’m a man, we both have needs.” I brushed him off and went upstairs to our apartment and half the legal staff was there with my female roommate and they and I were laughing so hard I had to use the loo. Then I told them the story. They were supposed to show up earlier at our “place,” but did not. They offered me a glass of sherry, not to my liking. That was a learning experience. Then they told their boss, the high government official who called me in, the story as they were all roommates. That lawyer never bothered me again in that domain.

The elevator conversations were worse but while I was never on the debate team in high school I learned with epees how to thrust and parry and when to do so in conversation. I was young but learned about many legal areas and loved my “family” of 62 at work and organized many functions, plus stayed hours later than everyone because of workload and that I was single and could call them if they needed to show up for their area of expertise.

It is an interesting route to go from “single” to “just the wife,” that is a learning curve I’ve been on for over 15 years and still trying to learn how to deal with bill paying where our bank will not discern that I had these accounts years before I met my husband, and governments, so that’s a daily learning session.

Learning to deal with people is an everyday occurrence. They’re usually interesting, sometimes nasty with a dog who bites mine. We learn to get around the problems but one happened two weeks ago. The owner was very responsible but the dog did attack mine twice in about 30 seconds. She is old, and has been friends with him since he was a pup. I thought about it and sent them a nice note about finding a trainer versed in the breed and offering a walk-by after training was complete.

Whatever it is, learn something every day. After I did the research and our old dog Zoe’s hips were taken out at a critical puppy age she had to grow her own from cartilage. She had a sort of seizure the other day and now her gall bladder needs support as well so she’s on drugs that make her drink 1/2 gallon of water a day (she weighs under 35#) and go #1 like a racehorse. Yes, she usually goes every 8-10 hours but now it’s two hours.

I’m learning new things every day as I protect my husband and dog from harm. Please learn your own things that you need for yourself and your family. This is my family. Dee

I live over a lake where the wind changes every 30 seconds. I imagine myself as an air traffic controller telling each plane to take a different trajectory to land safely. Don’t worry, I will not become one.

As a kid I wanted to name things, like crayon or paint colors. I might have been good at that as a career. Burnt Sienna was my favorite crayon, partially because of the color and also because of the texture.

I’m a foodie and may actually write a story/cook book soon. I did go to cooking schools in NY and Italy and learned a lot but was not in the business for long.

Writer of great fiction or even non-fiction. I’ve been afraid to take that on, probably because of a snide laugh and a “no” from a publisher.

Art historian or conservator. I’ve aptitude only for the first.

Running a non-profit organization, probably a no-kill animal shelter. They don’t call me Aunt Dee in our communities for nothing.

A good cook. I am one, and with training should be a professional but I had an accident (not culinary) that took me out of the business for a while and I turned my sights to other pursuits.

Of course, first female President, gold medal Olympics gymnast, ballet dancer, horsewoman. Perhaps I should place some of these on a bucket list. Forget President.

In the real world one thing I would like to do is to save feral cats. Out west caretakers trap them and bring them in for spay/neuter and health care, then take them back behind a strip mall where they were picked up knowing they’re OK, and provide food. Here, I believe they are just shot. I would like to change that. If someone tosses a box of kittens into a dumpster, it’s not their fault and they should have a chance at life.

Years ago I walked up to San Miniato al Monte above Florence, Italy that is a route I’ll never get to walk again. There’s a church on the way up and a lady who brought spaghetti for dei gatti (the feral cats). I came back the next day and gave her about $20 and she said no. I told her it was for the cats, so she accepted it. There are kind people, priests behind the church feeding ferals, and other caretakers all over the world. I’ve changed a few things in this town. Now might be the right time.

No, I will never be President, thank goodness. I do small things where we live, like a crosswalk nobody stops at, a pat on the chest for a dog, hug for a cat or helping someone through any loss.

I’m no good at loss. Our Uncle died the other day and was buried today. I talked to my father-in-law tonight for a while about the service that we could not attend. Our dog had a seizure the other day and I’ve been up day and night making sure she’s breathing and taking her out every couple of hours because she’s old and now on steroids and drinking water like crazy. What? I can do something about that. Aunt Dee to the rescue! Cheers, Dee

Yes, I did graduate from a French culinary school in NYC and got to cook graduation dinner with my seven compatriots. Dinner was at the James Beard House and my large, extended family sat upstairs in his bedroom at the largest table in the room and stayed for a feast of re-imagined leftovers, 20 new dishes for family and the entire neighborhood.

Well, not the entire neighborhood, I excepted the guy who made me have a doggie bag in my hand, visible at all times when I visited, and who told my parents they were not allowed to have a holiday wreath on the front door. He lived his life to complain to the homeowners association for suspected violations. Hey, I cleaned up after the family dog in 4′ of snow and deposited it appropriately when I visited. The fact that the bag was in my coat pocket at the time is not worthy of a complaint.

Anyway, they were not invited. Later that day, for extended family, I prepared a side of salmon with scallop mousse, covered with sliced zucchini to look like fish scales and my cousin made fried parsley for garnish. I don’t remember what greens or potatoes we had with it. That was the only time I ever made that dish.

Yes, I’ve made cassoulet with lamb and sausage and all the trimmings. Once, for my father. He told me it was the best meal he ever had. It only took two days to prepare.

Then I decided that all the great French chefs, Escoffier, Careme were creating master sauces to cover the smell of rotting meat, because there was no refrigeration. Come on, the French only bathed once a month and used perfume instead.

Immediately I went south to Italy and Greece, have yet to visit Spain. Few ingredients, best ingredients and care taken in selection, preparation and execution. We’re set up for homemade hand-cranked pasta, and fluffy pancakes with whipped egg whites. My husband loves basic spaghetti and meatballs in a jarred tomato cream sauce but it all comes from the premier Italian market right down the street.

I can make a fantastic beef stew that includes sauteed onions, bacon and a bottle of good amber beer. Moussaka, though my husband hates eggplant, Veal or chicken Milanese. He has favorites that made their way through powdered lemonade, individually packaged string cheese, all the way to discussions about a 4-5 year-old cheddar, and whether it will be filet au poivre or skirt steak with a parsley chimichurri. That’s the way it rolls here. Gotta go check on the dog to see if she’s breathing. Cook! Dee

Welcome India, Nicaragua, South Africa, Serbia and Ireland!

I took a center piece of salmon, skinned it, placed it on a bed of braised leeks with salt, pepper and grainy mustard and cooked it en papillote. Parchment paper, a heart that I fold my own way. 8-10 minutes in a 350 degree oven for a 4-5 oz piece.

I’ve red, white and purple baby potatoes that I parboiled the other day and added a bit of mayo and tarragon, s&p. Also I roasted some baby kale in a touch of olive oil, s&p until they were crispy.

Tasty nuggets of goodness! After her neural incident the other day ancient dog Zoe is on antibiotics and steroids. It was determined not to be a seizure because she never lost consciousness. All I know is that I stay up much of the night to make sure she is breathing. Her breathing has gone back to normal but she was tripping over herself in the snow early this morning. I’ll try to run to the store now while she sleeps. She doesn’t hear me or see me much (cataracts). She’s going through water like crazy and asking to go out every few hours! Oh well, I’m shy of her human age by about 40 years but hope my husband is around to help me out….. Another day, Dee

It means immediate family to most, plus extended family for holidays.

It also means the honor of cooking for fellow cooks and staff at a restaurant. I did that during my one-month internship after cooking our meal to family and friends a meal at the James Beard House in NYC for our culinary school graduation.

At my brief unpaid internship there would be an excess of just-caught wild salmon, or just picked chanterelle mushrooms and I’d have to make do with anything we had in the walk-in refrigerator. Fishers, farmers and foragers made their way to our door and some of it became our “family meal.”

No need to worry about me going on “Chopped” or “Top Chef.” I took a job after that, back home, did one shift and had a few hours the next day to look for a better job. I was offered one. They called me a Cadillac in a VW factory. Handling my folder, sun glasses and car keys I tripped up the stair, broke a finger and couldn’t use my knives for six weeks.

So I became a consultant for arts and education non-profits and decided to work in only one kitchen, my own. Now family meal means my husband, and we usually sit on the sofa, this weekend we watched Star Wars VII. Of course our old dog had already eaten but was hanging around in case something dropped. That is our immediate family.

I made a pork tenderloin, s&p, grainy mustard slathered above it, and hard apple cider placed in a zip bag in a bowl (in case it leaks) in the frig overnight. Potato salad from small, boiled colored potatoes with mayo and tarragon, and small romaine leaves and tomatoes for a green salad. I placed the pork in a cast iron pan and seared it then put it in the oven until done to taste. I’ve cheater instructions for that so you don’t have to go out and buy a thermometer pen. Sorry, Alton Brown. My husband uses one for the grill but I go by feel.

Cheers! Dee

died less than two hours ago. Two weeks ago it was Easter Sunday and a bunch of family and friends were at Nanny’s and he was out of bed and upbeat as always.

I was talking to my husband on his cell for a few minutes and Mr. S. grabbed the phone and said “hi Dee,” same thing my father used to say when he called me.

Instead of Easter, he said “Happy April Fools Day!” I replied that he couldn’t trick me because I was many miles away. He responded “there’s a possum in your house!” He was “up” physically and mentally for a day or two so we played the possum thing out.

Today I called just to see how he was doing. His sister-in-law answered the phone and said he died two minutes ago. I let her go immediately as I knew she had important things to do. Nanny has now lost three of her five children and has two sons remaining, one is my father-in-law. Mr. S got to see a baseball game last weekend with his brother, and will be wearing a local football tie at his funeral. I sent a baseball lapel pin for his suit, hope it comes in time. He did love sports.

A gentle spirit was lost today. We must give a thought for happy, encouraging, enervating, funny, kind people who have lived a good life. Sadly, Dee

Framing seems permanent. Not so an elegant brunch or dinner party which is gone in a couple of hours. After college my roommate brought me to a framing store and taught me the ubiquitous “uniframe.” Have the folks at the store dry-mount it and cut the glass and then we place it all in a plastic holder with string to hold it all together in back.

A uniframe looked better than posters with masking tape in back on concrete walls of the dorm.

Let’s talk states and countries. As I look at my chosen walls today, I’ve paintings, drawings and photographs, beautifully framed so I can remember my parents, siblings, my husband’s family and other dear folks.

It reminds me of adventures and to keep my tall husband from walking into low sconces on the walls. Thick frames. He will not hurt my photographs by walking under the sconce in the hallway. I place other things in front of other works, from furniture to a front-entry shoe/boot rack so he doesn’t hurt himself.

Greece, Pennsylvania, Italy, New York, Ireland, Texas, Indiana, Japan, Australia, California. I especially like our Tuscan retreat bedroom so that my husband can come home from work on weekends, sleep through it and never look at it! All I can say is that my framing of Tuscan lands must lull him into that much-needed sleep.

Much to do. Dee