A Holiday Sweet Treats Party

     Page One Hundred Sixty-Five.
     And so it begins. The holiday season is here and with it parties, presents, rushing, decorations, frustration and tons of ridiculous food, little of which is healthy.
     In a couple of weeks, I'll be having a holiday gathering which will hopefully be pleasant and not too big. Here's my theme. I'm going to make all the real food and I've asked my guests to bring the crap. I figure most people have one holiday sweet specialty they make every year. Why shouldn't there be a party devoted to those home-made goodies? I'm sure others have done this type of thing before. With luck it'll work.
     I'll make beef tenderloin with French bread for sandwiches, chicken pot pie, ribs, mac 'n cheese, vegan rice & beans, cole slaw and a tray of fresh, raw veggies. Then, there will also be dishes of dried fruit strewn about. Plus, of course, bowls of nuts. This menu is very eclectic and might adjust, but you see the direction I'm heading. (Understand, my friends are of the "wide range" variety.) I'm also thinking of buying a couple boxes of Ho-Hos and Twinkies just for the fun of it.
     I know that home-made Russian tea biscuits will probably show up. There will also be the typical variety of home-grown cookies, date-nut bars, lemon bars, berry and pumpkin pies, chocolate cake and Lord only knows what else. Somebody may bring fresh pralines. Wouldn't that be great?
     This party will be in two weeks. If I start cooking tonight, it should all be ready by then.

Simon & Garfunkel Inspired Roasted Root Vegetables

     Page One Hundred Sixty-Four.

King Henry VIII of England

     I'm sure you've heard how Henry VIII can be. Well, lemme tell ya, when he's dieting he's worse. I was attending his marriage to Ann Bolyn and I could've predicted just exactly how it would end by his behavior at his bachelor party.

Why Would He Want To Behead Her?

     His doctors had recently put him on a low-cholesterol/reduced sodium diet because his blood pressure really was sky high and this man was subsequently having real psychological issues. We were all hanging out at one of the local strip joints and, I thought, having a good time. Suddenly, after a while, for just no discernible reason he yells, "off with her head" in reference to the poor dancer! We all asked him what the problem was and he said that her dance moves were old. True, she was doing the Charleston. But that's no reason to behead someone. We managed to talk him out of his decree and she was saved. But she was crying so badly that she had to take the rest of the evening off from dancing.Instead, she was the hat check girl for the rest of the night.

The Famous Duo Of Simon & Garfunkel

     I'm only bringing this story up because it was the same evening that Simon & Garfunkel wrote Scarborough Fair and subsequently inspired my roasted root recipe. You see Paul and Art were friends with Hank also. In fact, they were the ones to talk him out of the beheading. They could see how shaken the stripper was. And even after her life was officially spared she was still so traumatized that they went over and spoke with her for a while just to soothe her nerves.
     Seems she was from Scarborough and her favorite spice combination was parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. How they got all that in one 15 minute conversation is beyond me, but no matter. So they ended up writing one of their most famous songs about a stripper! Obviously, you can tell by listening to it that it was written during the late Renaissance, in England, but I'm sure you didn't know the rest.
     Here's how I adopted her favorite spice combo into a scrumptious dish.
     Get yourself a few large potatoes, white or sweet, and peel 'em.
     Then, get yourself a few beets and a bunch of carrots and peel 'em.
     Then, cut everything into bite-sized pieces and dump 'em all into a large bowl.
     Then, drizzle just enough olive oil over everything to moisten and stir thoroughly.
     Then, sprinkle on some salt, pepper and a few teaspoons of white sugar.
     Then, sprinkle on some parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. Just a little of everything, you know.
     Then, pour it all onto a foil-lined cooking sheet and spread around so all the pieces are flat.
     Then, place in a 425 degree, preheated, oven for a while. 20 minutes? "Till fork tender.
     Feeds 8-10 as a side dish if served with many other items. Or, 6-8 if a heartier sized portion is desired.
     So, that's the story of my Simon& Garfunkel Roasted Root Vegetables. I'm sure it was more information that you needed or wanted but you got it anyhow. Enjoy!     
    

Mrs. Buckley's Stuffing

     Page One Hundred Sixty-Three.
     About 18,500 or 18,501 years ago, I lived across the street from the Buckleys. This was in Ireland. It wasn't called Ireland at the time, of course. It was called "Honolulu" by its contemporary inhabitants in the native language. But it was what we call Ireland today, none-the-less. It was an idyllic neighborhood. Almost everybody was charming and redheaded, the hills were a vibrant green and everybody wore beautiful sweaters.
     The only "less than fuzzy" element on the entire street were a family of druids who lived down the way. They drank excessively and rented out their upstairs apartment to a bunch of frat boys who were always having wild parties. But, except for that one house, it really was just a lovely area.

     So one evening I was out raking leaves and Mrs. Buckley walked over and invited me to join her family for dinner. Never one to turn down free food, I accepted. She'd made a very good meal that I can still taste today. It was spiral sliced emu; stuffing; quinoa with morel mushrooms; falafel; creamed jicama; fried plantains; pad thai and rolls with butter. Then, for dessert she made a Chocolate Decadent Cake. The entire meal really was great.
     What made the greatest impression on me at the time was the stuffing. My family was Orthodox Jewish. So, if my mother was required to have a stuffing-type item on the table for a given holiday, it was matzo farfel. I'll talk about my mother's matzo farfel more in another blog, but what you need to know for the sake of this blog was that it was awful. Basically, it was dead, dry, flavorless chunks of Soylent Green. So when Mrs. Buckley explained that this stuffing was gentile-style food, I just quivered with glee. It was great!
     I innocently asked her how to make it. She graciously responded and I've been making a similar version ever since. Here 'tis. Fry up an entire log of Italian seasoned sausage in a very large pot or stock pot 'till brown. (I think the log will be a pound. But you'll see it in the store.) Remove sausage to a bowl. To the sausage drippings, add 1 large finely chopped onion, 2 finely diced celery ribs and 1 finely chopped red pepper. Saute 'till soft. Add a stick of butter and let melt slowly. Replace cooked sausage and stir. Pour in 2 cups of chicken broth and heat 'till warm. Dump in a large bag (12-16 oz.) of seasoned bread croutons or stuffing mix. Stir thoroughly. Dump into a couple of casseroles and bake, 325 for 20-25 minutes or so. Eat and enjoy. Serves a small army- maybe 10 or 12.

Thanksgiving Chocolate Decadent Birthday Cake

     Page One Hundred Sixty-Two.

Yum!

     In my extended family, there are three birthdays in late October and November. So beginning a few years back, our Thanksgiving dessert table has three birthday cakes on it in addition to the usual assortment of pies and cookies. My sister, the Official Thanksgiving Hostess, began this tradition to honor two of her children and myself. She wanted to remember our birthdays while wayward family members were in town.
      Due to the volume of desserts, we each got a very small, eight inch, single layer cake of our choice. That way, the already crowded dessert table wasn't as overwhelming. Everybody was happy with this for a few years except me. I wanted enough cake so I could bring some home afterwards and munch for a couple of days. Plus, I wanted the best in Cleveland, which everybody knows is Corbo's Bakery in Little Italy. So starting a few years ago, I began bringing my own Corbo's cake: a 1/4 sheet, 1/2 white & 1/2 chocolate with white frosting. And it always said,
                                                 "Happy Birthday Uncle Jeremy"

Mmmm. Tasty!

     Everybody acclimated well to this until last year when I bought a 1/2 sheet. I don't know why I brought something so big. It wasn't a major birthday or anything like that. I just wanted the attention I guess. And even after I cut myself a massive slice to take home, there were tons left over, some of which ended getting tossed.

     This year, my niece's birthday actually falls on Thanksgiving day which is very nice. So she's requested that I don't bring another 1/2 sheet and also that we don't make a fuss over her brother's birthday which is in October anyhow. My Nephew, Lee, and I are perfectly okay with those requests. Lee simply doesn't care about things like that in the first place. And, I have ulterior motives.

With fruit it's tasty and healthy!

     Mere days prior to starting my weight-reduction diet last July, I discovered the best cake south of Heaven. It's Chocolate Decadent Cake from Gust Galluci's Italian Grocery Store on Euclid Avenue. I purchased a couple of slices of this stuff and then promptly went on a diet. Poor timing on my part, right? I guess I figured that after eating this cake, there's no reason to eat anything else ever again. This cake is so good it really is the last thing you might want to eat before dying. By September, I'd decided that it would be this year's birthday cake.. And a whole cake is round, four layer and 12 inches so visually it shouldn't be as overwhelming as what I typically bring.    
     I told my sister my new plan and she wasn't sure how it would go over. Once I described the cake in detail to her though, she was all for it. I knew that she'd feel about this baked delight the same way I do. So, I ordered it three weeks in advance with a day prior to Thanksgiving pick-up.
     If you're going to blow your diet, make it worth it. And this crud is.

I'll Have The Babyback Ribs Please. With Extra Sauce On The Side. Thank You.

     Page One Hundred Sixty-One.
     You know what I have a taste for? BBQ ribs. I want some nice "fall off the bone", smoky, sweet ribs. Maybe I'll make some today. I'm positive that if I rationalize properly, then I can somehow figure out how to get them onto the list of foods which are allowed on my weight-reduction diet.

     You may not know anybody who's quite as good at rationalizing and inventing diet foods as me. I know in my heart that if I were desperate enough, I could get sour cream coffee cake onto my diet. But I'm not currently that desperate, thank heavens. I just want some ribs. And I have broken through my weight-loss plateau; I'm down more poundage in the last week. (As of this week, I'm at my 2001 weight according to my records at the gym.)
     So, yes indeedy, I think I'll make some ribs...
     Yessiree Bob... It's ribs tonight...
     Yup... BBQ ribs...
     Yum, yum, yum.

On Preparing for Thanksgiving Drama

     Page One Hundred Sixty.
     Thanksgiving is in a couple of weeks and here's what I'm required to bring: two sweet potato casseroles (one with reduced marshmallow topping); green beans with almonds; two vegetarian pot pies; my birthday cake (not home-made, separate story); a large mac 'n cheese to feed the masses on Friday afternoon and no drama. We're looking at about two dozen attendees this year - that's down a little because the decision was made not to allow an ex-spouse and some accompanying entourage.
     Don't worry too much about the ex-spouse though. they are invited, with the new significant other, to join us for a formal meal on Friday night. You see, my sister and brother-in-law host a family gathering at their country club every year on the Friday evening of Thanksgiving weekend. And the compromise was made to allow ex-spouse to join us Friday but not Thursday.

     Oh, the drama. I just can't believe that some of this stuff goes on in other families. In other families, the      big dramas are things like: excessive alcohol/drug consumption; screaming and yelling; the bad food; delayed eating; etc. I know those stories, believe me. In my family it's: if she's coming then I'm not; and vice versa. And that includes ex's. Families are just insane. But, we're stuck with them.

White America & Black America: The Difference? Mac 'N Cheese

     Page One Hundred Fifty-Nine.
     Yesterday, I got into a discussion with my co-workers about the different eating habits of black people and white people at large family gatherings or parties. It really is amazing how different some traditions are.
     I'm the manager of an African-American beauty salon even though I'm white. I've also spent a certain amount of time in other predominately black environments over the years, for a variety of reasons. The food differences still fascinate me.
     In about 2000, after working at the hospital for a little while, I got into a conversation with a black co-worker about her recent family Thanksgiving feast. She mentioned in passing how good the mac 'n cheese was. I was visibly surprised that she'd had that dish at Thanksgiving. She was, in turn, surprised that I was surprised. I'd never heard of mac 'n cheese at Thanksgiving and she was shocked at my ignorance. Another black co-worker who was standing nearby interceded. "Jeremy, black people always have mac 'n cheese at their family and holiday gatherings. And white people don't know that. And black people don't know that white people don't have it."  
     She was right. I've had this conversation countless times over the years with other white and black people and they're equally surprised.
     Yesterday at the salon, they asked me what will be on the average white family's Thanksgiving table in a couple of weeks. "Turkey, stuffing, gravy, mashed white potatoes, cranberry relish, green beans, rolls and butter. Then some families will personalize it by perhaps adding sweet potatoes, peas, salad, and/or glazed carrots. But then they may eliminate the white potatoes and green beans and lots of people don't really like cranberry relish. But generally, the stereotypical caucasian family will have something closely related to that."
     "That's it?"
     "Yeah."
     "That's boring. What's your second meat?"
     "What's a second meat?"
     At that point the room erupted in laughter. They proceeded to list all the things that might be served at a black Thanksgiving, none of which surprised me because I'm somewhat well versed in stereotypical African-American eating habits at this point in my life. For those of you who aren't, take the aforementioned "White People List" and add spiral sliced ham, greens (collared or turnip), sometimes roast beef, black eyed peas, spaghetti with tomato sauce (occasionally), chicken wings, corn bread and, of course, mac 'n cheese. It tends to be more food and a greater variety than what I'm used to.
     Now, here's one question: is it a Southern thing? I've never thought to ask a Southern caucasian what their stereotypical eating habits are come Thanksgiving. But I wonder if it's more of a varied spread than what I'm used to as a Northerner? My next question is: if it's not a Southern thing but an exclusively black thing, why? What's the origin of the subtle changes

     But getting back to that mac 'n cheese... that stuff really represents the great divide between white and black America. And I'll tell you something else. MANY people have told me that I make the best mac 'n cheese with lobster that they've ever tasted. But I'd never take it to a black gathering. Never. They'd consider me an amateur. Why set myself up to receive those patronizing comments?  

A Winter's Feast

     Page One Hundred Fifty-Eight.
     January of 1985 saw a cold snap in Cleveland, the likes of which you only hear about. It was more notorious Cleveland winter weather. For a couple of days it didn't get above 5 or 10 degrees. About six weeks earlier I'd moved in with a young newlywed couple, Mike and Kathy. (I was taking a few years off from being a live-in nanny to work full-time as a hairdresser. I rented a bedroom in their home having found them listed on the housing boards of one of the local colleges.) So we were just getting used to each other when the entire city was shut down from the cold. All our respective jobs were canceled, so there we were with nothing to do.

     Mid-afternoon, I got a taste for spaghetti with home-made meat sauce. I had some of the ingredients but not all. They had everything else. So I offered to make us all a nice spaghetti dinner, combining our communaly supplies. They were all for it and even pulled a salad together. That type of weather just screams for a hearty pasta dish.
     So, a few hours later, there we were, finishing up a nice, old-fashioned, Italian dinner, feeling glorious, but still strangely ready for more. Somebody said, "I could go for some ice cream". I honestly don't remember who's idea it was, but we all confirmed that, "yes indeedy. Some ice cream would be perfect just about now". Problem was, there was no ice cream in the house. Somebody, who knows who, said, "let's head up to Hoffman's Ice Cream Parlor". It was 6.30 or 7.

    Hoffman's was a local joint just few miles up Mayfield Road. Under normal circumstances, it was perhaps 10 minutes away; just a hop, skip and jump. But these weren't normal circumstances. It was colder than... it was colder than... it was colder than... It was cold!!! But golly gosh gee. We wanted some ice cream, so off we went. We somehow got out of the driveway. That was no small feat right there considering the amount of snow coming down.
     Did I mention the snow? I can't remember. Regardless, it was snowing harder than it ever has at the top of Mt. Everest.
     So we got out of the driveway - small miracle. Then we headed up Mayfield.There were no cars. I mean zero. Notta. Zilch. Nothing. It was like a post-apocolyptic Earth were there's no more oil so nobody can drive and the kings control what little gasoline does exist and all the humans are wild. So we didn't have to deal with traffic, just snow. But we did make it and... who knew? The lights were actually ON!
     We went in and believe it or not, there were other customers in the place. Only one table's full, but in fact, we weren't the only psychotic people in Cleveland that day. The staff told us that they'd been open all day but the other table and our party were the first customers. Then while we were there, many more people showed up. It was as if everybody got cabin fever at the exact same moment. That ice cream was glorious.

       I'd live with Mike and Kathy for another year and a half before deciding to give up full-time hair, go back to college and move back in with the three boys who I lived with and nannied a couple of years earlier. To this day though, almost always, invariably in the dead of winter, on the worst days, I crave ice cream. Don't know why... just do. Chocolate chip, pralines & cream, chocolate fudge, cherry vanilla, butter pecan... just don't care. I want it.

On Doing The Hair Of A Corpse

     Page One Hundred Fifty-Seven.
     Have I yet told the story of doing the dead woman's hair in her casket? I don't think so. For lack of a better topic today, here we go. Be prepared. It's a sad story. Really. If you're not up for a tragic story, then don't read this right now.
     I'd been doing the hair of Sue for a few years. She was some twenty years older than me and met me through her daughter Kalen. One of my best friends, Biff, had been dating Kalen for a few years and they both agreed that Sue and I would get along beautifully. I was a freelance hairdresser at this time; going to my clients' homes and servicing them in their kitchens. So Biff and Kalen fixed us up. (What a way to phrase hairdresser/client relationship. But we really did become that close.) 
     I gradually became friends to the whole family. Sue had another daughter, Meghan, whom I didn't know quite as well, 'cause she was away at college. But whenever Meghan came home and there was a family get together of any type, I was invited. Also, I eventually did the hair of Sue's sister, brother-in-law and their infant children as well. I really was in pretty tight with that family for a long time. In this context, I got to know everybody, even Sue's elderly parents who came to Cleveland occasionally on visits.
     I went to summer school in Israel in 1989. Prior to leaving, I made arrangements for my hairclients' survival in my absence. I farmed out most of my clients to various hairdresser friends. In Sue's case, she'd only need a color touch-up on her roots. So I purchased the color in advance, gave it to Sue and taught Meghan how to apply it. (Meghan was back home having graduated that spring.)
     In late August, after my return, I hosted a couple of small dinners to show off my photographs. Sue, Meghan, Kalen and Biff came to one of them and we all had a great time.
     Labor Day weekend, 1989, I received a phone call Saturday night, 2AM, from Biff. He was hysterically crying. Meghan had been driving to Cincinatti to attend her boyfriend's church picnic and was killed in a car accident which was her fault. She was 22 and was in her first month of her first job as an accountant. Sue called me too, at 8AM the next morning, not knowing that I already knew the tragedy. We all know that there's nothing you can say in those situations except the standard, "if there's anything I can do to help, please let me know".
     Sue's extremely large family began arriving early Sunday afternoon. I went over and was as gracious as possible. I'd heard what party animals they were and they'd heard how wildly eccentric I was. But nobody could really be themselves due to the circumstances. Everybody simply wanted to re-write Sue's world.
     The body viewing would be the next day, Labor Day, 2-4 and 6-8. I asked who'd be doing Meghan's hair. They explained that the funeral home has a staff hairdresser. Knowing how gravity-defying her hair was (this was the '80's after all), I volunteered to bring my comb anyhow. "Sure. If you want. We appreciate the thought" was their response. I arrived Monday, 1.30 and they came rushing out to the parking lot to meet me.
     "Jeremy, thank God you're here. It's all wrong. Meghan cannot go through eternity looking like that. Please fix it." So I did. It was a little weird. Not a lot, but a little. I was okay with doing her hair because I had to be for the sake of the family. But then, many people commented on her freckles. That was something the family hadn't though about. Apparently she was so self-conscious about them that she covered them first thing in the morning. The funeral home couldn't possibly know about that. So Sue asked me to touch up her make-up prior to the 6-8 showing. That was a little weirder. But would you say no? Of course not. I helped out in what way I could. That was the only important thing to me.
     About 17 or 18 years later Sue would die of cirrhosis. No parent ever really gets over the loss of a child, but Sue became a tragedy herself. We did have fun at her funeral though. We were all much more "ourselves". As it should be. I miss Sue. She was quite entertaining. But then, she'd probably say the same thing about me.

My Weight Reduction Diet. Update #3

     Page One Hundred Fifty-Six.
     I think that I've plateaued where my weight-loss is concerned. I'm down a solid 17 pounds or so. That's only eight away from what I wanted to loose. This is since mid-July and the problem is that my weight has diminished by ounces, not pounds, in about the last five or six weeks. So, I lost pretty consistently and seriously for about eight or ten weeks. Then slowed tremendously.
     In that time, I've gone from a 33-34 waist to a 31-32 waist. I am happy with that. Don't get me wrong. All the trousers I've purchased in the last ten years are now either way too big, loose or fit beautifully. And as of last week, my favorite pants from the 1990's, purchased in 1997, do fit. (Deep gray; silk-wool-mohair mix; sharkskin.) I can get them up, tuck in a white undershirt and clasp them closed. But they're still too snug to also tuck in a dress shirt. I didn't even try. Additionally last week, I tried on my favorite pants from the 1980's, purchased in 1983. (White; cotton; awesome 80's styling.) I got them all the way up for the first time in a while. But, there's no way I can currently zip, then button, them. Just ain't gonna happen.
     If I loose another 3/4" around my waist I'll enjoy the 1997 pants again, no problemo. Then another 3/4" after that will get those gosh darn 1983 trousers back into daily, summer rotation.
     So, can a 52 year old male somehow get from a 31-32" waist to a 30" waist? Who knows? I'm not giving up. That's all I'll say.
     Maybe more sit-ups?
     Maybe more jogging?
     Maybe more protein supplements?
     Maybe more prunes?
     Maybe fewer hot pretzels?

I'm Not Quite There Yet...

One Way To get More Hot Preztels

     Page One Hundred Fifty-Five.
     Here's my biggest problem in life right now. How do I get more hot pretzels from Playhouse Square without actually attending a show in one of the theaters?
     Last Friday evening I attended a glorious show at the Palace Theater and prior to the curtain rising, I naturally treated myself to a hot pretzel. Now, I've written in this blog before, numerous times, about Playhouse Square's hot pretzels, but last Friday's was particularly God-like. I was about to cry for the LSD-like euphoria, gratitude, emotion and profound thankfulness I was experiencing. While eating, I truly felt what it was like to win a new car on The Price Is Right. And, I began thinking right then and there that I really deserve hot pretzels more often than just when I attend a show. Granted, I've been attending shows regularly for the last few months, but I don't have anything planned now for the foreseeable future. How will I get through?
     Here's my devious plan. There are something like nine (?) stages/theaters at Playhouse Square. All these stages are within about four hundred feet of each other. (You'd have to see it to believe it. The combined seating is about 10,000.) Most of the theaters are on one side of Euclid Avenue but not all. Now here's the scoop... I think that the Ohio and State Theaters have their concessions outside the ticket-takers. All the other theaters have their food inside the ticket-takers realm, I'm pretty sure. So, in theory, when I get a serious craving, I can simply hop on down there (a 15 minute drive) and sneak into the lobbies of said Ohio or State and chow down. The only conflict might arise if there's no live performance of one type or another in those theaters when I'm dying for some doughy goodness. I envision that to be a rare occurrence though.
     I'm telling you, they're that good. At least to me. I recognize that everybody has their own taste, but I think these things are heavenly. 
     By the way, The show I went to last Friday was a retrospective of Big Band dance music of the World War Two era. I was surrounded by people who were really ancient. I'm sure they were wondering why some guy was moaning and groaning while sitting and eating his stinkin' hot pretzel. (I admit that I really was doing my best imitation of Sally from the movie "When Harry Met Sally". I'm sure you know the scene I'm referring to...)

Mmmmmm... Yummy...

Mary Todd Lincoln's Vegetarian Pot Pie

     Page One Hundred Fifty-Four.
     Mary Todd Lincoln was preparing Thanksgiving Dinner for the Union Army during the war. It was Pennsylvania, 1863, and life was hard for everybody, but more so for the the vegetarians than anybody else. Their life-style was a challenge to all the army cooks. But that year Mary Todd tried to accommodate them by preparing a Pot-Pie without turkey. I acquired this recipe because I befriended her ghost some years ago at a seminar for American Civil War enthusiasts. I told her ghost of my penchant for cooking and she graciously gave it to me. Unlike the stories floating around, she really was very pleasant. The ghost I mean, not Mary Todd. The pot pie is pretty good too. Here:

1 stick butter (1/2 cup)
1/2 cup flour
1 quart full-fat milk
2-4 vegetable bullion cubes
****************
a little bit of olive oil
1 pint mushrooms, sliced
1 large onion, coarsely chopped
1 red pepper, coarsely chopped
freshly ground black pepper
couple of teaspoons of brown sugar
few splashes of white wine, sherry or brandy  
****************
1 16 ounce bag of frozen mixed vegetables, placed in colander and run under hot water 'till just warm
1 box of extra-firm tofu, cut into 1/2 inch cubes - if desired (but it really is tasty)
****************
2 cups Bisquik
1 cup heavy cream
1/4 cup melted butter
****************

     Pour a little bit of olive oil into skillet and dump in 'shrooms, onions and red pepper. Saute for a while until they begin to soften up. Add black pepper, brown sugar and wine to taste. Saute for a few moments to de-glaze and 'till alcohol burns off. Mixture should be wet but not watery at all. Set aside.
     Heat stick of butter in large pot over medium-low heat 'till melted. Add flour. Heat and stir for a few minutes over medium-low heat. Meanwhile, heat milk in micro for a couple of minutes till hot. Pour hot milk into butter/flour mixture and stir 'till mixture thickens up. Add vegetable bullion to taste. Be careful with those darn bullion cubes. They're salty as all get out!
     Dump 'shroom mixture into gravy mix and then add warmed frozen veggies and tofu (if desired) . Stir well but with a gentle hand as we don't want the tofu to break-up, now do we? Pour the entire Kitten Kaboodle into a very large baking dish, either glass, metal or ceramic. Set aside.
     Mix Bisquik with cream lightly but thoroughly in a mixing bowl. After mixed, place on wooden board and knead just a couple of times. Roll with pin to fit over the casserole. Gently transfer from board to casserole and with pastry brush, brush melted butter over top of crust.
     Bake at 450 for a while, 15(?) minutes, until crust is browned, and filling is bubbly. Feeds a nice Thanksgiving crowd - 10 or so... maybe... perhaps more or less? Who knows? Who cares?
     Nobody will miss the turkey. If you don't tell them it's poultry-less, they may not even notice, in fact.
     This recipe is clearly not low-fat. But, it's Thanksgiving for crying out loud!

This...

Or This?

They Want Who To Teach The CEU's?

     Page One Hundred Fifty-Three.
     Well I'm five blogs behind. I've been very busy lately working on a project and it's really taking up a lot of my time.
     I'll be a primary presenter in a few weeks at a health and healing seminar. This seminar will be providing four CEU's (Continuing Education Credits) to Social Workers, Art Therapists, Music Therapists and Activities Professionals. I'll be gabbing on and on for 75-90 minutes about nutrition and how it can be incorporated into really good tasting and really satisfying food. (In theory, if you provide great-tasting food to people who are physically incapacitated, then they won't mind if its nutritious. What a concept!) And, I'll actually be getting paid a tidy little sum of $ for doing this little chat. 
     The reason I've been hired for this project is that a lot of people know me. And they know me through a variety of contexts. Some people know that I'm private/personal chef who's also really preoccupied with good nutrition. That's an unusual combination. Typically, when you think about a professional chef, you don't picture someone who's utterly obsessed with a healthy lifestyle. Likewise, when most adult Americans think "nutritionist" in their mind's eye, they see an old, dried up, gray haired, squinty-eyed, overly skinny lady who looks like she'll hurt you if you eat one M&M. Well, the fact is, I don't have any official nutrition or dietary training - it's true. But I do have an intense and life-long interest in this subject and some unusual life experience in this arena.
     I worked in the nursing home industry for seven years as an activities professional and had to learn loads about geriatric nutrition there. I've had a large number of physically ill clients as a private chef. And, really, good nutrition has been an interest of mine during my entire adult life. It's run concurrent with my interest in food prep. So, there you go.
     Also, in 1988, I learned a valuable life lesson that I've carried with me every day. It's called "nutrition in context".
     I've mentioned before in this blog that I was, simultaneously, the staff hairdresser to three treatment centers for adolescents detoxing from drugs and alcohol. I had those jobs for a decade or longer. On my first day at unit #2, I got off the elevator and smelled the most glorious odor in the world. I followed it (as is my style) right to the kitchen and met the unit cook. (To back up, this ACDU (Adolescent Chemical Dependency Unit) was on the large floor of an old hospital. Administration re-constructed this floor with it's own classrooms, play areas and industrial kitchen.) The cook explained to me that "hospital food" would NEVER do in this context. When you're dealing with teenagers who haven't eaten properly for a few years, you MUST get food into them. Therefore, administration, who realized this in the first place, hired her to cook exclusively for the unit and "fatten these kids up". And she did. She was a fabulous cook.
     That first day was Beef Stroganoff and it just continued from there. I loved my days at that unit because I knew I'd eat well. Those meals were hearty,well-balanced and old-fashioned. They personified the way families might have eaten in the 1950's. That hospital took context into account. "Whom are we feeding and why?"(Those kids LOVED the food, by the way.)
     Conversely, at ACDU #3 the dietician was a vegetarian and prepared lots of sandwiches and simple dishes. She believed that a plant-based diet was the healthy way for all people. When I talked with the kids about their feelings and experience with treatment, the "lousy food" often came up. For the record, I believe in a plant-based diet also. Though, I'm not a vegetarian. (I'm fine with animal flesh a few times a week.) My point being, ACDU #3 didn't take context into account. Different populations have different dietary needs for a variety of reasons. I'll never forget the concept of "nutrition in context".
     I've written before in this blog about how I ONCE blew up at the dietician at Fancy-Schmancy Nursing Home, where I used to work, for trying to impose a "no-cake" for the diabetics rule. She apologized and we eventually came up with a compromise. Why somebody would try to restrict the food intake of a 95 year old under ANY circumstances is beyond me. It's nothing but sadism.
       See? This is why they asked me to chat on and on. I have some unusual life-experience concerning food, nutrition and context, not just food prep.
     So, wish me luck. The seminar is the Saturday prior to Thanksgiving. I hope I'll be ready.  

 

NO...I DON'T THINK SO...

STILL NOT THERE!!!

THAT'S BETTER!!!