Page One Hundred Sixty-Eight.
Well, the kid is back in my life.
Just to get you all up to speed, last summer, June of 2013, I was hired for a short-term gig cooking for a 15 year old boy a couple of times per week. Shem lost both of his parents a couple years ago to drugs and alcohol. He was taken in by his mother's best friend and promptly began acting up. He's a particularly charming and kind-hearted kid but, predictably, very angry. The area where he consistently acted out the most was food. The Foster mom, Deb, is an older women and former hippie who's single, vegetarian and admittedly no kind of cook. All the kid's food would become take-out or frozen. To be sure, it was good quality, but no kind of home-cooking. And home cooking is what he really craved. When the parents were sober they were apparently good cooks, especially the dad. The kid has euphoric memories of that food and romanticizes it. So, of all the things for him to raise hell about with Deb, it's food. (For the complete back story on this situation, you can read my blog: pages 97; 98; 99; 106 and 125 if desired.)
So last June, Deb called me. We're long-time acquaintances but she didn't realize until talking with some mutual friends that this type of job is right up my alley. I proceeded to cook for him a few times per week until he left for summer camp a month later. We had a shaky start but but then became good pals. After returning from camp, he moved in with one of his two older brothers. The oldest is in and out of jail; he's very much duplicating the pattern of their parents. Middle brother lives with his girlfriend one building away from Deb. He's in mostly good shape. He's in school studying pre-law and is reasonably stable. So the kid moved in with him long-term. Yeah, right.
Older brother didn't put up with the kid's crap. Also, girlfriend's younger brother lived with them as well. (I don't know that story. Some things are just none of my business. But I'll probably eventually hear it anyhow.) So it was one crowded apartment, and filled with two teenage boys and two very young twenty-somethings to boot. Golly gosh gee, how homey and cozy! So the kid wanted to move back in with Deb which he did last month. But she put her foot down and changed some of the rules. He's mostly been abiding by the new constitution but still raises hell about the food. Deb never phoned me because she thought that I was busy with other gigs, particularly the family for whom I cooked and nannied during the last few years. She didn't realize that they didn't resume me after their boys got back from summer camp this last autumn.
So I had a holiday gathering last weekend and invited Deb. We got to talking and so forth. Long story short, she phoned me this morning after speaking with the kid and wants to rehire me long-term, four days per week.
This 15 year old kid is going to have his own personal chef making his dinners and school lunches. Must be nice.
The fact is, It'll be good for him and me. I have EXTENSIVE experience working with troubled and at-risk youth and he did come to trust me and told me so. He consistently refuses counseling which the school and Deb are not happy about at all. Yet, he did tell me a certain amount of his business. The fact is, there are certain things I'm good at and kids are one of them. I have a former brother-in-law you used to refer to me as a child psychologist. Though I don't have the sheepskin to prove it, I am really good at dealing with those little monsters know as children. This blog isn't named How To Cook Children* for nothing.
And it'll be good for me 'cause I need the cash. I'm busy looking for one full-time job right now as I'm getting sort of sick of the multiple part-time gigs. I've done that for a while and it's wearing thin. But a little extra money in the meantime is a happy thing. And who knows how long before I find a job anyhow. I'm trying to get into corporate event planning here in Cleveland. The jobs definitely exist but getting them is hard. So, anything to pay the rent in the meantime... (If you know anybody in corporate event planning here in Cleveland or anybody in a related field, please feel free to pass along my name. I'll be in your eternal debt. I'll mail you some homemade Chicken Paprikash.)
*Nutritious Food They'll Eat
Showing posts with label Chicken Paprikash. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chicken Paprikash. Show all posts
Friday, December 13, 2013
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
On Borrowing A Church Kitchen
Page One Hundred-Eighteen.
I'm cooking for a memorial gathering this Friday. It won't be big, only about forty-five or so. But that's enough that it's still work. I'll be making three trays of Lasagne, two pans of chicken Paprikash with noodles, tons of three bean salad, two trays of fruit salad and a very elaborate green salad. The real complication in a situation like this isn't the work, the time, the purchasing of ingredients or so forth. The problem is storage. I only have a two bedroom apartment in an old, 1920's brownstone walk-up. My refrigerator is somewhat large for an apartment of that nature, but still it's nowhere large enough to store this amount of eats.
I'm cat-sitting right now and the home I'm living in has what might be referred to as a "gourmet" kitchen. (I cat-sit, dog-sit, elder-sit, child-sit, house-sit a lot. When the home-owner goes away for vacation, he or she hires me to move in, live there and take care of the being in question.) I'd been thinking "perfect timing". But upon closer inspection, I realize that the over-sized refrigerator in this home still won't be large enough. So, I think I've come up with the perfect solution.
Last March I put on a large, instructional, community Passover Seder in a grand, old, United Methodist church here in Cleveland Heights. (See page fifty-five of this blog for that story.) The congregation was delighted with it and have been quite warm toward me ever since. Actually, I've been friendly with the senior minister for about a decade. Our friendship is what led to my hosting the Seder in the first place. But with the Seder, the congregation and office staff have gotten to know me and welcome me. So, I phoned the church yesterday and asked if I might borrow their kitchen for a few days. They're thrilled to help me out. And brother, do they have a great kitchen. It's fantastic. This church has all the counter space, gas burners, ovens, deep sinks, refrigerator space and freezer space anybody could ever hope for. Martha Stewart would be impressed. Last spring, with much help from volunteers, I cooked a meal for 260 in this kitchen. I'm positive that I could cater a memorial gathering for 100 by myself in this thing. It's just that workable. (The only problem I'd have catering for 100 would be transporting the food. My car can handle carrying food for 45 this Friday. Much more and there'd be a problem. After a little while, you begin to think about ever single detail, such as car space.)
Well, I better go now. I'm doing the chicken today.
I'm cooking for a memorial gathering this Friday. It won't be big, only about forty-five or so. But that's enough that it's still work. I'll be making three trays of Lasagne, two pans of chicken Paprikash with noodles, tons of three bean salad, two trays of fruit salad and a very elaborate green salad. The real complication in a situation like this isn't the work, the time, the purchasing of ingredients or so forth. The problem is storage. I only have a two bedroom apartment in an old, 1920's brownstone walk-up. My refrigerator is somewhat large for an apartment of that nature, but still it's nowhere large enough to store this amount of eats.
I'm cat-sitting right now and the home I'm living in has what might be referred to as a "gourmet" kitchen. (I cat-sit, dog-sit, elder-sit, child-sit, house-sit a lot. When the home-owner goes away for vacation, he or she hires me to move in, live there and take care of the being in question.) I'd been thinking "perfect timing". But upon closer inspection, I realize that the over-sized refrigerator in this home still won't be large enough. So, I think I've come up with the perfect solution.
Last March I put on a large, instructional, community Passover Seder in a grand, old, United Methodist church here in Cleveland Heights. (See page fifty-five of this blog for that story.) The congregation was delighted with it and have been quite warm toward me ever since. Actually, I've been friendly with the senior minister for about a decade. Our friendship is what led to my hosting the Seder in the first place. But with the Seder, the congregation and office staff have gotten to know me and welcome me. So, I phoned the church yesterday and asked if I might borrow their kitchen for a few days. They're thrilled to help me out. And brother, do they have a great kitchen. It's fantastic. This church has all the counter space, gas burners, ovens, deep sinks, refrigerator space and freezer space anybody could ever hope for. Martha Stewart would be impressed. Last spring, with much help from volunteers, I cooked a meal for 260 in this kitchen. I'm positive that I could cater a memorial gathering for 100 by myself in this thing. It's just that workable. (The only problem I'd have catering for 100 would be transporting the food. My car can handle carrying food for 45 this Friday. Much more and there'd be a problem. After a little while, you begin to think about ever single detail, such as car space.)
Well, I better go now. I'm doing the chicken today.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
I Want To Eat Now!!!
Page One Hundred-Eight.
Would you like to know what I want to eat right now?
I'd like to start with a stack of blueberry pancakes with maple syrup and sausage patties with a couple of scrambled eggs (cooked hard) as my first course. Then, after that's finished, I'll take a cheeseburger (cheddar) topped with tomato, lettuce and grilled onions, some fries and cole slaw. Please leave the entire bottle of ketchup - I'll use a surprisingly large amount. Then after I eat the last fry, I'd like some Chicken Paprikash over wide egg noodles with a large helping of freshly steamed broccoli on the side and a beautiful mesclin salad dressed only in a fine balsamic vinegar. For dessert: Bananas Foster. Thank You Kindly.
I'm writing this blog on Tuesday afternoon and have been ill with a horrific flu since last Thursday. Thursday was the last time I ate. On Friday my fever was seriously high but it broke by Sunday. In fact, I mostly feel normal now, but I still can't eat. I want to, Lord knows, but after two or three bites of anything, I'm spent. This morning I had one and a half slices of toast with butter and one hour ago for lunch I had one glass of chocolate milk. That's just not enough. And if you saw me you'd know that I can't afford to go too long eating this way. I can afford to loose 7-12 pounds but nothing more. I have two extra inches around my waist, that's it.
Part of me wants to go to the gym (my home away from home) right now, But I know that if I do, I'll probably collapse from shear exhaustion exacerbated by starvation. I think that for dinner tonight I may prepare some Ramen and see what happens. (On the plus side, perhaps this is the opportunity I need to loose that nagging 7-12 pounds?)
Would you like to know what I want to eat right now?
I'd like to start with a stack of blueberry pancakes with maple syrup and sausage patties with a couple of scrambled eggs (cooked hard) as my first course. Then, after that's finished, I'll take a cheeseburger (cheddar) topped with tomato, lettuce and grilled onions, some fries and cole slaw. Please leave the entire bottle of ketchup - I'll use a surprisingly large amount. Then after I eat the last fry, I'd like some Chicken Paprikash over wide egg noodles with a large helping of freshly steamed broccoli on the side and a beautiful mesclin salad dressed only in a fine balsamic vinegar. For dessert: Bananas Foster. Thank You Kindly.
I'm writing this blog on Tuesday afternoon and have been ill with a horrific flu since last Thursday. Thursday was the last time I ate. On Friday my fever was seriously high but it broke by Sunday. In fact, I mostly feel normal now, but I still can't eat. I want to, Lord knows, but after two or three bites of anything, I'm spent. This morning I had one and a half slices of toast with butter and one hour ago for lunch I had one glass of chocolate milk. That's just not enough. And if you saw me you'd know that I can't afford to go too long eating this way. I can afford to loose 7-12 pounds but nothing more. I have two extra inches around my waist, that's it.
Part of me wants to go to the gym (my home away from home) right now, But I know that if I do, I'll probably collapse from shear exhaustion exacerbated by starvation. I think that for dinner tonight I may prepare some Ramen and see what happens. (On the plus side, perhaps this is the opportunity I need to loose that nagging 7-12 pounds?)
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
On Learning to Make Chicken Paprikash
Page Fifty-One.
I was living with the Van Myms, 1982. I made dinner for the family every Wednesday and often asked for suggestions. One day, Amanda suggested Chicken Paprikash. I liked it very much but had never made it and wasn't sure where to start. She told me to look it up in "Joy". What a concept. A cookbook? Follow a recipe? You want to cook something so you look it up, figure it out and cook it? I couldn't believe such a thing, but I did it. Today, so many years later, I believe Chicken Paprikash is the first thing that I ever learned to make from a cook book. I was age twenty.
That vignette is valuable enough. But I'll tell you another interesting detail of that evening. The house was being painted that day. The odor of the cooking chicken was so wonderful that one of the house painters complimented me after exiting the bathroom. I, of course, offered him some which he, in turn, wolfed down. Seems the recipe wasn't quite enough for two children, two parents, one live-in nanny and one house painter. So by the time we sat down, it was definitely down to the last drop for that chicken. Amanda wasn't mad at all though. She'd already learned that eccentric graciousness is one of my characteristics. "Why even bother to try to stop Jeremy if he's offering our dinner to one of the painters?
Over the years, I've adjusted the recipe somewhat. For me, the tricks to good Paprikash are 1) don't overcook the chicken, overcooked chicken is dry chicken and 2) add way, way, way too much paprika. Trust me on this.
I was living with the Van Myms, 1982. I made dinner for the family every Wednesday and often asked for suggestions. One day, Amanda suggested Chicken Paprikash. I liked it very much but had never made it and wasn't sure where to start. She told me to look it up in "Joy". What a concept. A cookbook? Follow a recipe? You want to cook something so you look it up, figure it out and cook it? I couldn't believe such a thing, but I did it. Today, so many years later, I believe Chicken Paprikash is the first thing that I ever learned to make from a cook book. I was age twenty.
That vignette is valuable enough. But I'll tell you another interesting detail of that evening. The house was being painted that day. The odor of the cooking chicken was so wonderful that one of the house painters complimented me after exiting the bathroom. I, of course, offered him some which he, in turn, wolfed down. Seems the recipe wasn't quite enough for two children, two parents, one live-in nanny and one house painter. So by the time we sat down, it was definitely down to the last drop for that chicken. Amanda wasn't mad at all though. She'd already learned that eccentric graciousness is one of my characteristics. "Why even bother to try to stop Jeremy if he's offering our dinner to one of the painters?
Over the years, I've adjusted the recipe somewhat. For me, the tricks to good Paprikash are 1) don't overcook the chicken, overcooked chicken is dry chicken and 2) add way, way, way too much paprika. Trust me on this.
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