(Food) Adventures in New York City

Sometimes, it’s a wonderful thing to take a vacation from everything and just be able to do exactly what you want.

This weekend, I had that opportunity and I have to say it was perfect.

I spent the weekend in New York with my friend, Saz. We haven’t been on a trip together in years and after being friends for 20 years, we figured it was time again.

So, off to Manhattan we went.

The beauty of going back to a place you’ve been to before is that, most likely, the touristy stuff is out of your system. That was true in our case. While it’s nifty to see the Empire State Building and Times Square, we didn’t feel obligated to go up to the top of the building, see the Statue of Liberty or take a tour in one of those buses with the open tops.

Instead, we did exactly what we wanted which, I find, is the best way to experience a city.

We both arrived late Friday morning and we spent the first part of our day wandering towards NYU, stopping for New York pizza for lunch and enjoying a beautiful spring day. Then we decided to get half-price tickets to a show since we both like Broadway and it seemed like a good idea.

We had trouble deciding on which tickets to get. Saz and I are both fans of musicals and there were several we were open to seeing. There was also a play we’d both heard about that had Kiefer Sutherland, Chris Noth, Jason Patric, Brian Cox and Jim Gaffigan in it. It was called That Championship Season and was supposed to be good. Since the show was closing two days later, we finally reasoned that tickets to that would be our best option since casts like that don’t come along too often whereas musicals are always around.

Well, I think that maybe a musical would have been our best bet. While it was interested to see the actors live, it wasn’t a very good play. For one thing, there were two intermissions which was weird because the play wasn’t even two hours long. Also, while it was nice to see the actors working so hard to be stage actors, I felt a little tired to see how hard they were working. In all honesty, I felt like I was back in college watching actors try to be very serious and show their craft instead of, you know, just acting. It was a little painful at times. Also, there was a portrait of who I think might have been Teddy Roosevelt over the fireplace that was part of the set and I couldn’t help wonder through the entire play why they had a picture of Ricky Gervais hanging up because from our seats, eleven rows back, it REALLY looked like Ricky Gervais. Also, the play was rather…boring. It was all talk. At one point, I started actually hoping someone would die. Then, as things got a little duller, I started to fantasize that Kiefer Sutherland would morph back into Jack Bauer, grab one of the hunting rifles they had as props and liven things up.

Nevertheless, I’m glad I saw the play. I would always have wondered. I think Saz enjoyed it a little more than I did because she’s a little more forgiving.
Our next day, we had another low-key start. We did some shopping which is always a lovely way to spend the day. We did head over to where the World Trade Centre had been because there was a store we wanted to go to there but, also, having last been to NYC when the Twin Towers had been there, it felt right to go back. The site is under construction and it’s nice to see a new building going up.

During a break from our shopping trip, Saz and I discussed other things we could do in the city. At one point, we thought we might try to see another show on Sunday. Then we started talking about food since, you know, I’m a bit of a foodie. We finally came to the conclusion that we’d rather pay the money we’d have spent on theatre tickets on good food so, within minutes, we had a Sunday lunch reservation at Tom Colicchio’s restaurant, Colicchio and Sons, and a dinner reservation for the following night for Bobby Flay’s Mesa Grill. As I’ve previously blogged, we already had reservations for that night at Babbo, Mario Batali’s restaurant.

I could probably blog for weeks about Babbo, honestly. It’s an unassuming little place, close to NYU. It’s crowded when you go in. It’s busy. You need reservations at least month before. Many a group was politely turned away by the concierge while we waited for our table.

When we finally sat down, the service began. It was flawless. We ordered the traditional tasting menu with the wine pairings and each course was introduced and the wine pairing explained. There were separate people to replace silverware, wine glasses and scrape crumbs between each course.

Then there was the food. As a Mario Batali groupie, I was expecting good food. Instead, I got great. Really great. Quite possibly the best thing I’ve ever eaten.

Here’s the menu for the foodies out there:

Course 1- Copa with Pickled Chili and Meyer Lemon
Course 2- Pappardelle with morels and thyme
Course 3- Duck Tortelli with “Sugo Finto”
Course 4- Pork Tenderloin with Asparagus, Cipolline and Grilled Lemon Vinaigrette
Course 5- Coach Farm’s Finest goat cheese with Fennel Honey
Course 6- Toasted Sesame Panna Cotta
Course 7- Salame di Cioccolato with brandied cherries
Course 8- “Torta di Orzo” with Malted Milk and Honey Gelato

Each course wasn’t huge- it was just enough to make you want more until the next course came along and wowed you. I’d be hard pressed to pick a favourite although the fresh made pappardelle with morels and thyme might one of the most amazing things I’ve ever tasted. However, the pork tenderloin and the panna cotta course might give it a run for its money.

This is not to say that everything else wasn’t fabulous. It’s like comparing a BMW to a Mercades: Both are excellent and have their merits but they’re not the same car and they can’t really be compared.

he wine pairings were perfect and each glass was enough sips to make you appreciate the pairing without being too much.

In short, if I could hug Mario Batali, I would do it right now for creating food that made me stop, think and truly appreciate how things are composed and presented. There’s a reason while he has the renown he has and I’m very, very thrilled that his food tasted as wonderful as I expected. When you’ve seen as many episodes of Iron Chef America as I have, there’s a certain level of expectancy and hope and I am very happy that Babbo exceeded my expectations.

Like I said, I could probably write a novella about Babbo but, well, I’m not sure anyone but me would read it.

After Babbo, we were too happy and keyed up to go back to the hotel. We wandered over to Bleeker Street to a music club a friend of Saz’s had recommended. The band that was playing when we arrived were very good- very Long Beach, California type of music. Unfortunately, they ended an a funk band took over.

I’m not a huge fan of funk. This band were good but they’re one of those bands that believes in jamming which means their songs went on and on and on. I think one of them lasted over ten minutes.

We left and headed back, exhausted, full and very happy.

On our last day, we headed over to Chelsea to have brunch at Colicchio and Sons. We were a little disappointed that they only had a brunch menu rather than their full lunch but it was pretty good stuff. I had a ricotta frittata with caramelized onions, arugula and honey. It was tasty but, well, it wasn’t Babbo. We ate in the Tap Room which is the more relaxed area of the restaurant. Maybe if we’d have gone in the dining room we’d have been more wowed. This is not to say it wasn’t good food. Saz had a burger that she said was one of the best she’d had. It…just wasn’t Babbo. It’s really like apples and oranges though and to compare the two really isn’t fair. Babbo is a special occasion, very very rare sort of experience. Colicchio and Sons is a place you go for a high quality lunch and a really good beer.

We spent the rest of that afternoon exploring the fabulous Chelsea Market and laying in Hudson River Park, drinking Prosecco and enjoying the beautiful day.

When we finally got up and moving again, we headed to Eataly- the Italian marketplace/eating place that was set up by Mario Batali, Lidia Bastianich, Joe Bastianich and Oscar Farinetti.

Eataly made me wish I had a kitchen, right then and there. It is a store filled with ever Italian ingredient you can imagine. Within the store, there are areas that serve food, all made from the same ingredients you can buy. There are meats, cheeses, produces, pastas, olive oils….aisle and aisles of them. While I could have spent a fortune, I restrained myself. The practicality of air travel is that it’s not practical for transporting fresh ingredients home and keeping them fresh. Still, I wandered, fondled a few ingredients and generally felt like I’d found my mothership.

During all this time, Saz was very patient. She enjoys good food but isn’t as into cooking as me. However, she indulged my foodie love with patience and laughing at how I couldn’t help but fawn over the mushrooms and 25 year-old aged balsamic that was being sold for $220.

We finally left Eataly with a t-shirt and a need for fresh air. We headed back to the hotel, took a break and then got ready for Mesa Grill.

Mesa Grill is not the same as Babbo. It’s much more relaxed. It’s a lot bigger or seems that way. It was very, very good.

I have to admit, I’m a fan of Bobby Flay so eating at his restaurant gave me a bit of the same thrill as eating at Babbo. Mesa Grill is southwestern in flavours. I decided that I wanted to be daring and finally try rabbit. Until I became a foodie, like so many people, I viewed eating rabbit as eating Thumper the bunny. Then I learned to appreciate food and now try to separate cartoon cuteness with the tastiness of meat.

The rabbit was cascabel chile crusted and came with toasted cous cous, fava beans, smoked red pepper sauce and queso blanco. It was, in short, absolutely delicious. It was almost a cross between pork and chicken. Saz had the green chilli cioppino which she, too, loved.

Our final review of Mesa Grill is that it was tasty. It still wasn’t Babbo but we didn’t expect it to be. Mesa Grill is more of a regular type of place, somewhere you’d go to get a craving fix. It was fabulous food but very approachable. Like with Mario Batali, I’ve seen Bobby cook on Iron Chef America and it was awesome to try some of the food I’ve seen him make. It was delicious.

That was pretty much the end of our NYC adventure. Three days goes fast, particularly when you measure it in food. Saz and I had made a pact when we arrived that we wouldn’t feel bad if we ate non-healthy food. Saz has been exercising and dieting since last year and has managed to lose 60 pounds. She looks great. She’s also been trying to eat well. Me, I’ve lost 15 pounds and try very hard not to eat too badly.

This weekend, we ignored our health-eating inclinations. It was worth every calorie. Granted, it means I’ll be eating lots of healthy stuff for a while but when you’re presented with heaven-on-a-plate like we were at Babbo, life is too short to care about fat grams and calories.

I was sad to come home though it’s nice to be reunited with the pups. They missed me and I missed them. I had a great time in New York. I had a great time with Saz.

However, as is the case with all good vacations, they must come to an end. So, here I am, back to reality and back to work a couple of pounds heavier and a few cares lighter.

It was worth every penny and every moment. How often do you get to say that?

Happy Wednesday!

Food, Glorious Food!

I haven’t had a food blog in a while.

This is actually pretty amazing given how much of my thought processes are devoted to food. I won’t share it with you because it’s a bit ridiculous but, well, let’s just say that whenever my brain is not focused on something specific, it tends to go to food.

It’s actually quite amazing that I’m not a 600 pound blob. I did get a bit blobby there for a while but fortunately thanks to self-discipline, I’ve managed to lose a little of the blobbiness. Also, it was most likely also due to the fear of my blobbiness showing through when I shed my winter clothing in all of its fabulous camouflaging layers in favour of a far less forgiving summer wardrobe.

Currently, my food obsession is due to the fact that for her mother’s day present, my mum is letting me cook dinner for her and my dad. I’ve decided to do a 5-course tasting menu which translates as five small courses. Since I want it to be surprise for her, I’ll wait until next week before I reveal my menu but needless to say, I’m a little too excited about it.

Planning a meal like this is a lot of fun for me. Not only do I get to plan the menu but I also get to go shopping for the ingredients and make out my time table. Then I get to cook.

This sounds a little nerdy but the fact is, I do know this and as I (and GI Joe) always say , knowing is half the battle.

I’m planning a menu that is geared towards my parents’ taste. It’s simple flavours that require a little complexion in cooking which is my favourite way to cook.

I still find it ironic that just a couple of years ago, my idea of cooking was to open a jar of spaghetti sauce and serve it with premade garlic bread and a bag of salad. Nowadays, I refuse to buy a jar of sauce- it’s so much easier to make your own and way tastier. Also, I’m a snob. I like to chop the veggies for the salad. I like to make my own garlic bread.

Nowadays, thanks to the wisdom and guidance of Mario Batali, Top Chef and the Food Network, I now am in love with cooking. It’s fun. It’s therapeutic.

And, best of all, you get to EAT. I love to eat.

So, planning an elaborate meal is a treat for me. I’m very organized, I think. I have a little notebook that I use. It’s actually a handmade notebook that my good friend at RadLinc crafts made for me. It’s very useful. I write down my ideas for the meal first. Then I figure out my ingredient list. Then I plan the shopping and where I need to go to get the ingredients. Finally, I figure out what preparation is involved, the schedule for cooking and how long it will take.

It sounds complicated. It is, I suppose. Yet it works. My mother and I employed this method during our last two thanksgivings and it made cooking for 14 people much, much easier. It’s very micro-manager-y but, well, whatever it takes.

Sometimes, I think it might have been fun to be a chef. Then I realize that it would not only involve having to work your way up in restaurants where you’d work with arrogant chefs who aren’t exactly the kind and cuddly type. I mean, just listening to Gordon Ramsey shout “YOU F-ING DONKEY!” and watching the cheftestants on “Top Chef” and their horrible behavior is enough to put me off for life. Granted, it’s a cooking competition so they’re not at their nicest but some of those chefs are MEAN.

I’m a realist. I think if I had my own little café where I had a changing menu that wasn’t too extensive would be fun. However, it’s not likely to happen because restaurants are hard work, no matter what the size. Also, while I adore cooking at home, I think the bloom would fall off the rose quickly if it became a ‘job’ and not a hobby.

So, I’ll stick to my pretensions at home and leave the restaurant cooking to real chefs.

Still, I do enjoy getting to cook for other people. It’s a lot of fun and it’s nice when they like what I cook.

Also, if I steal ideas from cookbooks, it’s forgiven for a home cook. Apparently, according to Gordon Ramsey, it’s a cardinal sin for a chef. I’ve seen him berate restaurant owners more than once for using cookbooks on Kitchen Nightmares. While I still use cookbooks, I’ve started to branch out and focus on ‘flavour profiles’ rather than straight recipes. This basically means knowing what works with food combinations and what doesn’t and then working with that. It’s a learning process but it’s definitely something I’m enjoying learning.

I don’t like Gordon Ramsey. I think that might be clear. While I think he probably is a good chef, I don’t like the way he shouts at people. I don’t like that he gets VERY close to them and makes them look at his sweaty face so he can Teach Them a Valuable Lesson. I also don’t think he makes very good Yorkshire puddings but that’s sort of irrelevant. Finally, I don’t like that sometimes on Kitchen Nightmares, he uses his high falutin’ chef ways to insult people instead of stopping to think that maybe what they were doing wasn’t necessarily wrong but just different to what he knows.

I digress. Anyway, I also don’t like that Gordon insulted my beloved Mario Batali. That’s probably really why I don’t like him. Mario taught me to cook so he is my Yoda. He doesn’t know he taught me to cook but that’s ok. I’m happy just using his fabulous recipes and techniques to make good food.

I’m actually also excited because at the end of this month, my friend Saz and I are taking a 20th ‘Friendiversary” trip to New York. Obviously, we’re celebrating 20 years of being friends. I actually managed to get us a reservation at Babbo for a decent time. Babbo, of course, is Mario Batali’s restaurant. I know he won’t be cooking there but it will be enough for me to eat from a menu he created.

In short, if you haven’t figured it out, I love food. This is why I blog about it quite a lot and why I think about it so much. It’s something to share and something human beings all have in common: We all need to eat. It’s a universally safe topic for most people. It represents culture. It represents geographic region.

It represents humans. I think that’s a pretty cool thing.

Happy Thursday and thanks for reading!

Sunny Weekends...

Sunshine does a lot for the mood and this weekend was full of it. As much as I adore snow, there are times when it's nice to see the sun. I think there's definitely something to that Seasonal Affective Disorder in which depression sets in during the winter months. Spending some time outdoors in the sunshine does wonders for the mood.

It was a little too cold to spend too much time outside but Rory, Sookie and I had a lovely time taking walks around the neighbourhood. We took two each day: One in the morning, one in the evening. I think the pups were pleased to get out. It was a little hard going at times. Even though the sun was slowly melting the snow and ice, there were patches that were a little hard for two little dachshunds and one unsteady human to maneuver. It's not really even snow anymore- it's just snow coloured ice, much like the stuff you see on snowcones.

Yet each time we walked, there was less ice and snow. The grass, flattened and soggy, is starting to show again. The pups seem to appreciate being able to walk on the grass, wet as it is, rather than have to trundle through the snow. I can't blame them- it has to be cold on the feet.

It's been a nice weekend overall. It's the first one I've had at home in quite a few weeks which is probably why I enjoyed it so much. I love going to my parents' because I love seeing them but there's something to be said to having time in your own home to do what you want.

In my case, I took advantage of the time to cook. I now have a fancy KitchenAid stand mixer with pasta roller so today, I spent the day making ravioli. It was relaxing and fun, especially when I put my iPod on my iHome speaker set and had fun dancing while I kneaded pasta dough, made filling and, finally, put it all together in the form of cheese ravioli and butternut squash ravioli.

I even made the ricotta myself. I've seen them do it a few times on the Food Network and Mario Batali kindly provides a recipe for it in one of his cookbooks. It was ridiculously easy and twice as tasty as the stuff you buy at the store. Tonight, for dinner, I'm going to have homemade ravioli with homemade ricotta filling topped with homemade marinara sauce. It's a nice feeling to know that I've accomplished something, even if it is only making food. To me, cooking and making things in the kitchen is relaxing. The only time it's not is when it involves baking becaue I don't find that particularly relaxing. It's ok when I have time but it doesn't help that my oven isn't the best and so baking isn't as easy as I'd like. I do like to bake at my parents' house because they have a nice oven. Also, my dad likes kitchen tools and gadgets and they have almost anything you could need for a good baking experience.

I'm trying to get my kitchen like that. I'm getting there. Yesterday, I bought a fish spatula from Williams Sonoma. My good friend Saz was kind enough to give me a gift card for my birthday so I took advantage of it yesterday. I'm very excited about my spatula. I think I mentioned in my blog a while ago that I thought I might use my gift card for this and it turned out, I did.

I don't know why things like fish spatulas make me happy. It's the same content feeling as having a day where all I have planned is to make ravioli, walk puppies and relax. I think maybe that's one of the reasons I've been feeling blue: I haven't had time to just relax at home for an entire weekend.

Now the weekend is drawing to a close. The sun has set and it's dark outside. I don't know what the weather is supposed to be like this week. I did hear a rumour that more snow is on the way. I don't mind. I never mind snow. It's just nice to separate bouts of it with a little sunshine.

Sometimes, we just need a little sunshine in your life. It chases the Pootle clouds and the January blues away.

Happy Monday!

Rainy Weekends, Ramps and Other Food Geekery...

It's Sunday evening already and the weekend is passing by far too quickly, as usual.

It's been a very wet weekend. The rain held off for most of Friday and Saturday but when it came, it really poured. We had torrential rain on Saturday night and now we're having a steady downpour that's been going on since about 2 p.m. On days like today, the only thing that seems right is to sit down on the sofa and enjoy a rainy evening.

The puppies don't care for the rain. I feel bad that they have to go outside to do their business. They try to resist quite hard but in the end, they're mostly willing to run out, do their thing and then come inside, soaked and ready to roll on the carpet to try themselves off.

Of course, at one point, during the beginning of the first torrential downpour on Saturday night, I realized they'd dragged all their soft toys outside and if they remained outside, they'd get so wet they couldn't be saved. So, silly Monkeypants that I am, I dived out into the downpour, retrieved their toys and ran inside. I did not roll on the carpet to dry off, however.

It's been a nice weekend. My parents came down to visit which is always fun. I got to make them lunch and spend time with them which is always a treat. It's a treat for the puppies too- I think they probably get sick of seeing just me all the time.

The nice thing about hanging out with my parents is that we don't have to do too much to be entertained. We spent a portion of the afternoon at IKEA. My dad had never been. I think, as most people are on their first visit to an IKEA, he was rather overwhelmed. He was also not keen on IKEA's stealthy way of making you pretty much have to navigate through the entire store to get out, therefore ensuring you will buy something. My mother bought a tea strainer. That's it. I was quite impressed. Of course, I didn't buy anything but then again, I did go last weekend so I didn't need anything. Not that I ever really need anything at IKEA but you know what I mean.

Of course, no visit from my parents is complete without a visit to Jungle Jim's. I never mind going there. I went last weekend but I can always find something to get excited about. At the moment, to my extremely geeky-food-lovin' joy, they have ramps. Most people don't know what a ramp is. I didn't until I saw Mario Batali use them on Iron Chef America. It merited investigation. A ramp is a wild leek that only grows, literally, for just a couple of weeks in the spring. As far as I know it's either hard or even impossible to cultivate. Since I've seen them used in several of Mario's recipes as well as in other places, I had the urge to try them. So, imagine my glee when Jungle Jim's had them. I got some last week and, I'm sort of embarrassed to admit, I squealed a little...only to realize that I was by myself and squealing over ramps was a bit strange. I cooked them using a Batali recipe for Spaghetti with Ramps. I used Linguine. It was delicious. So, this week, when I saw that they still had ramps and they'd lowered the price, I was extremely happy. I can't wait to use them.

Jungle Jim's, thus far, has proved to me that they pretty much supply everything a pretentious foodie like me could want from fresh quail eggs to cippolini onions to ramps. They've even had truffles and morels and different times. Alas, these are far to rich for my lowly salary but it's nice to know they have them. The one thing I haven't seen is fresh chanterelle mushrooms but I have no doubt that, in time, I'll see them. That's an ingredient I'm still longing to try.

My parents left a little while ago, the puppies are quietly chewing on their puppy teething rings I gave them and the rain is pouring outside. It's a pretty peaceful way to ease into the Sunday evening and a nice end to a quiet weekend.

Now I think I'll go and ponder what to do with my ramps and relax for the rest of the day. Tomorrow is Monday which means back to routine and back to work. However, I think that I'll take Scarlett O'Hara's words of wisdom about thinking about that tomorrow. Tomorrow is, after all, another day and why waste a perfectly good Sunday thinking about tomorrow.

Happy Monday (tomorrow!)

The Rediscovered Joy of Cooking...

I haven't talked about cooking for a while. Mostly, I think I've been waffling on about Spring and puppies and Dog Whisperers. I apologize if I get tedious sometimes. My life is a little....routine at the moment in order to train the puppies so pretty much, those three topics are the things that are most prominant in my life.

I have managed to cook though. It took me a little while with the puppies. They don't quite get the concept of cooking. At first, they hid from the clanging of my pots, the chop of the knife and the beating of the meat. I have a nifty Mario Batali meat tenderizer with which it is remarkably fun to hit pieces of meat. It's also quite therapeutic.

Nowadays, the puppies tend to sit in the doorway while I cook. I've been slowly getting back up to speed and actually cooking proper meals instead of fast, easy stuff. Tonight, for example, I made Asparagus all Milanese as an appetizer (thanks, Mario!) and balsamic glazed cipollini onions (thanks, Jungle Jim's) with Swedish potato sausage for a main course (thanks, Sweden!).

It turned out delicious and it put me back in the mood to cook. It's not that I haven't felt like cooking but sometimes, you get to the point where it seems like a fair amount of effort to chop, slice and dice and you find ways to make dinners without that.

It also helped that I managed to get some great deals on some Mario Batali cookware this weekend, thanks to an invitation-only boutique my friend invited me to join. Mostly, the boutiques are clothes and accessories but every now and again, they have a good one. When they had a Mario Batali boutique, I was, naturally, excited. Sadly, by the time I had a chance to log in and see what bargains were to be had, I was a little late for some of them. When they sell out on the site, they're sold out.

Still, I did get a rather nice saucepan and an apron and my mum got a nice 4 qt Dutch oven. I made her buy it in chianti red since Mario's signature colour, persimmon, is the accent in my kitchen and I'm a wee bit possesive.

So, combined with new cookware and good ingredients, the urge to cook has struck me. It also helps that I've been watching reruns of Top Chef: Masters on Bravo. Unlike the regular Top Chef, the Masters version is very...classy. Instead of young chefs all vying to be 'Top Chef', Masters focuses on well-established, quite well known chefs who, if they win, will receive a $100,000 donation to their charity of choice.

The difference between the regular version of the show and the Masters version is the attitudes. Whereas the regular version focuses on competition which tends to get quite mean and snarky, the Masters version focuses on skill; the chefs admire each other already and have nothing to prove other than some friendly competition. Except Michael Chiarello who tends to remind me of a used-car salesmen, the competitors are actually really respectful of each other and pleasant to watch.

And...they can really cook. I'm not huge on Mexican cuisine. I like it but it's not one of my favourites but, I tell you, Rick Bayless makes me want to eat Mexican food.

All in all, lately, I've been hungry again. I want to learn new things about food. Since Jungle Jim's has managed to supply me with almost everything I have wanted to try- except, perhaps, Chanterelle mushrooms- I've been spoiled. I have yet to try truffles but until I get much richer, I might have to wait on those.

So, with a fridge full of ingredients and a desire to try something new, who knows what I'll come up with tomorrow.

But that's half the fun.

Happy Tuesday!

Purple Fingers and Decent Mondays....

We made it through another Monday. That's always an accomplishment, I think. Today wasn't actually a bad Monday. We had another birthday lunch for two of my coworkers, my boss was working from home and I got a lot done. Ignoring the fact that my boss doesn't like it if we work from home but often chooses to do so himself, there really wasn't too much to complain about.

It's even snowing again which, of course, makes me very happy. It was a nice beginning to the evening. Since I had lunch out, I didn't want to make anything too heavy for dinner. Since I'd made out menus for the week last night based on ingredients I have, I picked something light to make: Stuffed mushroom caps and roasted beet and parmigiano bruschetta.

I have to say, I might just be in love with cooking. The stuffed mushroom caps are always fun to make. I usually buy the big caps from the grocery store when they're reduced because they're near the expiration date. As long as you use them quickly, they make an inexpensive appetizer. I never use a recipe but more of a formula. I brush the caps with melted butter. I suppose you could use olive oil if you wanted to be a bit healthier but the butter adds a really nice flavour. Then I take some type of cheese, add some breadcrumbs to soak up a little of the oil when the cheese melts, an aromatic, usually chives, garlic or sweet onion and most often a herb to finish off the flavour, usually something that goes well with the cheese. Tonight, I made Fontina stuffed caps with garlic and fresh basil. I have to say, they were absolutely delicious. The roasted beet and parmigiano bruschetta was a Mario Batali recipe (naturally.) It, too, was tasty. I love roasted beets, they're sweet and juicy and when you add caraway seeds, it brings out a whole new flavour.

The only slight problem is that now I have purple fingers. To be fair, it's more like neon pink because I've scrubbed my hands rather a lot. I also had a bit of a purple kitchen as well as a bright red sink. It actually looked like I'd murdered someone when I washed the bowls and plates I'd used to prepare the beets. It was sort of interesting, if a little gory looking. I'm also a wee bit afraid my mouth is purple. Beets are delicious but they're messy.

Then again, I'm probably the messy one. I often make a bit of a mess while I'm prepping. I do clean between each prep though because I like my workstation to be neat and tidy- another lesson I learned from Mr. Batali.

What I don't get is those TV chefs like Giada and the Barefoot Contessa. They use their hands to prepare ingredients and yet they never seem to have a crumb on themselves. Also, they chop onions and their eyes don't water. I've read up on how to chop onions without crying and I've tried everything. However, I have overly sensitive eyes to begin with and by the time I'm done chopping the onions, my eyes are streaming, my nose is running and I can barely see.

I'm sure those TV chefs have artful editors who make sure the messy hands aren't shown, that the scenes are cut between sections so Giada and her fellow TV cooks can actually wash their hands before they continue. Me, personally...I'd rather see their hands messy. It makes them a little more relatable.

Yet there are some cooking shows that do let you see the mess. I watched Worst Cooks in America again last night. Anne Burrell taught her team to make pasta dough. I've watched her make that dough countless times on Iron Chef America when she was Mario Batali's sous chef. She's a pro. There's a technique to making pasta, you see. You make a pile of flour and then make a deep well in the middle, deep enough that you can crack eggs into it, swirl in the flour as you gently beat the egss. All of this has to be done without breaking the well which slowly forms a dough.

Last night, Anne Burrell's "students" were sent off to imitate her technique and make their own dough. I watched as one of her team attempted to make the well. I saw, immediately, that it was too high and deep and I knew what would happen. Sure enough, as the "student" tried to swirl the eggs into the flour, the sides collapsed, the eggs spill out and it was like a volcano erupting as the "student" tried to stop the eggs from escaping and ending up with a giant mess.

I knew what would happen because the first time I tried to make pasta, I, too, made a high and deep well. It was Mount Eggs erupting over my kitchen counter. I still managed to catch them and make it into a dough but it was pretty hairy there for a while. Now, I've learned to make a high but wide well into which I can crack the eggs, still have room to beat the eggs without collapsing the walls of the well and letting the eggs run away.

My point is that even though these are supposed to be the Worst Cooks in America, it was rather nice to see someone on television screw something up that we can all relate to possibly having done. I'm not a huge Emeril Lagasse fan; I used to like him but his "Bam"-ing got a little annoying and overdone and I lost interest. However, one thing I did like about him was that there were quite a few times when he broke a cake or did something wrong and he'd keep going, often laughing about his catastrophe.

It's always nice to know you're not alone when you do something silly. Of course, I don't think I've ever quite seen anyone on the Food Network stain their fingers- and possibly their mouths - with beet juice so maybe I'm alone in that. I'm hoping I can get it off. Otherwise, as Lady Aero suggested, perhaps I should just tell my boss I have contagious Pink Finger Disease and take a sick day.

Maybe I shouldn't take leftover beet bruschetta for lunch then....just in case.

Happy Monday!

Weekends, IKEA and Blobby Kitchen Messes...

Somehow, it's managed to become Sunday again without my being fully aware of it. That's the thing about weekends, they're tricky. I'm still convinced that there's some weird time-space continuam thing where time slows down while we're at work but speeds up as soon as we have some free time.

Since it's Sunday evening, my free time is rapidly moving by and Monday morning looms closer. Since I plan on spending part of the evening with Jack Bauer on "24", I anticipate wildly-ridiculous plot points, a miraculous recovery for Jack who was formerly dying and lots of "Damn it!" spoken with Jack's trademark inflection. Naturally, I'm still looking forward to it.

I can't complain though. I've had a very productive weekend. I managed to clean and organize and my house is feeling much better. I also got to go to IKEA which is always dangerous. You go there for one thing and come out with ten. For example, I was looking for some shelves for my pantry. I managed to find something better- a unit with interchangeable drawers from baskets to tubs to fabric ones. Because it was IKEA, it was inexpensive. I also managed to buy some towels, some candles, two toy mice/rat things- one for me, one for my niece- heat pads for hot pans, tupperware-like containers and a rug. All I wanted were the shelves. Curse you IKEA for your inexpensive products that are very useful and have odd names.

Of course, I realized when I got home that my shelf/drawer unit thingy really did need that worktop that I thought I could live without. Having it would give me much more storage space on top. Also, it would make my pantry look tidier. Since my kitchen currently looked like a bomb had hit it because I'd taken everything out of my pantry, I ended up going back to IKEA for the worktop. I emerged with the worktop...and a set of washcloths to match my new towels and a 79 cent vase that I thought would look nice in my bathroom. Curse you, IKEA!

I'm willing to concede that it probably isn't really IKEA's fault. I really need to NOT put things in that handy blue bag you pick up when you walk in the door.

Aside from my IKEA trips, I also managed to finally watch "Julie and Julia." I'd been loaned the movie by a coworker but hadn't watched it. Then my good friend, Saz, gave me it as a Christmas gift so I figured it was time to watch it. You'd think I'd have done so much sooner since I'm a blogger and a foodie.

I found the movie entertaining. I like the idea and I admit, I could relate to Julie rather a lot. As a yet unpublished writer, having a blog is one way to feel better about writing. I like her idea too- cooking your way through that many recipes in a year would be fun and a challenge. Since I've recently become obsessed with cooking, i think it's a cool idea. Yet, like so many of those, someone else had it first. Now everyone else would be a copycat.

Yet the thing I like most is that Julie took on the project so she could finish something. It's good to have a goal like that. For me, that's what the National Novel Writing Month challenge was for. I actually spent the evening editing that novel and as horrible arrogant as it sounds, I made myself laugh out load a few times. In my defense, I haven't read the book since I wrote it and though I can't speak for other writers, for me, at least, when I'm writing, it's like being in a different world. I often just write and let the words flow out and not know what I wrote until I reread it a few days later. It seems alien, foreign...not something I created. It's like stepping out of your body and observing yourself from a distant point of view. You think, "I wrote that? The demon says that?" Sometime, it's the characters writing the story. For this last novel, I can't say that was the case. It just...happened.

Yet, like it was for Julie when she finished her 365 of cooking Julia Child's recipes, finishing a novel in a month was a feeling of accomplishment. Granted, unlike Julie, I don't have publishers, editors and the Food Network leaving me messages but that's ok. I can live with that.

Though it'd be super fantastic if the Food Network called me. Don't you think "Cooking with Captain Monkeypants" has an interesting ring to it?

I'm kidding. My food tastes pretty good but it never quite looks....pretty. For example, I made radacchio pancakes for lunch (Mario Batali's recipe, naturally) and while they were delicious, it really showed me that I haven't got the hang of presentation. The pancakes looked a bit like uneven, discoloured blobs of egg that were not round but more like, uh, clouds...misshapen, slightly awkward, blobby clouds. I really must work on my plating. Still, when it's just me, it doesn't matter. I'm just afraid that if I ever cook for someone else, they'll balk at the sight of my blobby, odd-looking food that makes the plate look messy even when I try to wipe it the way I see the chef'\s on TV do it.

Anyway, all in all, it's been a very nice, productive sort of weekend. The nice thing is that there's another one coming up in under six days.

If only that pesky work-week wasn't in between.

Happy Monday!

Overpriced Pasta and Another Ode to Jungle Jim's...

So, sometimes when I sit down to blog, I have to do a check to find out how much I've ranted, raved or rambled about a certain subject. It seems that the last couple of months have been a little bit too much full of work. I also mention snow rather a lot but I'm afraid that's not likely to change. I love snow very much and will never get tired of writing about it. You'll notice that I've backed off Twilight and Stephanie Meyer. Having found out that there are some pretty fabulous snarky places out there that salute the awfulness of the book, I've found it cathartic to know I'm not alone. If you're bored, check out this fabulous parody. The illustrations are worth it alone but I couldn't have written anything quite so simply that nails Twilight the way this site does.

Anyway, I've also noticed that I blog a lot about Jungle Jim's. I don't think I can help that. I'm actually contemplating starting a new blog to replace my poor neglected TV blog. It's not that I don't like writing about TV but, lately, there's not much on TV to write about. Also, I watch more Food Network than anything else and I think that might get a tad boring. My new blog would take one of the new ingredients I bought at Jungle Jim's and detail what I did with it. I suppose it would be a bit Julie and Julia like except, well, it would have the Monkeypants spin. Also, I'd be completely honest if I accidentally dropped it on the floor and ruined dinner. Chances are, that blog would read:

Bought endives. Attemped to make a Batali recipe. Accidentally dropped endives and recipe contents on floor in dish. Dish=failure.

I went to Jungle Jim's tonight. I haven't been in over a week. It's shocking, I know. I received two lovely Mario Batali cookbooks for Christmas/my birthday AND I also got a great new copy of the Food Network magazine (if you don't subscribe, you should- it's excellent for recipes and tips). So, last night, I went through my cookbooks and magazine and picked out recipes I wanted to try. Then I made a list of what I lacked to make them- primarily fresh vegetables- in one of my handmade notebooks, courtesy of RadLinc Crafts that has bananas on the cover. Bananas are my secret symbol at work although my "sarcastic banana doodle" that was over my HP logo on my PC to parady the fact that I am the only one in my area to lack an Apple PC has mysteriously disappeared.

So, tonight, armed with my banana book, I went to Jungle Jim's. I was a good little Monkeypants and only bought three items that weren't on my list. I bought some chocolate covered Gingerbread pretzels that were left over from Christmas. They were only 99 cents. Also, I bought some salsify because, well, frankly, I was so excited to find it, I had to buy it. In case you're wondering, salsify is also called 'the oyster plant'. It is a root vegetable that has a faint oyster-ish flavour. I've never had it. To be honest, I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it but I saw it and I wanted to get some. The reason being...I saw it on Iron Chef America in the hands of none other than Mario Batali and I was fascinated. I'd never heard of it, you see. So, I did the Monkeypants thing and researched it. Immediately, I wanted to try it because it's related to the parsnip family. I adore parsnips. They're one of my favourite vegetables. If you've never tried them, let me know. I'll be happy to tell you how to use parsnips. They're a staple of the British traditional roast dinner.

The last item I bought was wine. My new budget favourite- Kenwood red table wine was on clearance! They only had a couple of bottles left. I was both excited by the reduced price and dismayed that I might have a hard time finding it in future. I bought the bottles they had left. How could I not?

Anyway, aside from the salsify, I stuck to my shopping list. Granted, it was quite a long list but it covered at least six to seven recipes. My shopping listed included cardoons which might not be familiar to you, as Lady Aero pointed out on my last blog. They're a bit spiny and they're related to artichokes. Last time I used them, I made a beschamiel sauce and fresh breadcrumbs, grated them with pecorino romano cheese and roasted them in the oven after blanching them in lemon water. It sounds like a lot of work but they were delicious and worth every minute. I have a couple of other recipes that use them so I got two bunches. I also got some beets to make some beet bruschetta. I bought fresh herbs, peppers and a radaccio lettuce. The nice thing about learning to cook is there are some pantry staples that you're never without so when it comes to cooking, the fresh stuff is the only thing you have to buy.

I can't believe I'm blogging about my shopping list. It's not that this is the only thing that I have to blog about, it's just that it's so much fun to learn to cook. Finding the ingredients is sort of, uh, thrilling although if you don't cook much, that probably sounds a little...scary...and odd. I can't help it...cooking is my new favourite thing to do.

Anyway, I digress...The only ingredients I lacked were small cipolini onions- Jungle Jim's only had the large- and the never-present fresh quail eggs. Ok, so I really didn't need the quail eggs but it's become a quest and Captain Monkeypants does love a quest.

The thing I was truly amazed at was that I didn't really spend that much money. I probably could make, without exaggerating, at least eight meals from what I bought tonight. I like to make a dinner and then have the leftovers at work for lunch the next day. Sometimes my attempts to cook aren't that successful but, for the most part, if I follow a recipe properly, it usually turns out pretty well. If you think about how much it would cost to eat something similar at a restaurant, it's a brilliant way to save money. For example, yesterday, I went to Romano's Macaroni Grill with the girls from work for my birthday lunch. Because I tend to prefer cooking Italian food, it always amazes me how much restaurants charge for a plate of pasta. For example, many of the weight-conscious girls ordered capellini pomadoro. Essentially, capellin pomodoro is angel hair pasta, basil, olive oil, fresh tomatoes and red pepper flakes. Retail cost of that, provided you cook enough to keep olive oil and pepper flakes around is, seriously, probably less than $4 per person. If you bought the ingredients, you could feed three people for what you'd buy in the store to make it. Total estimate would be about $6-$8 total to make it for three people. At the Macaroni Grill, it was $8.99 a plate or something like that. That's $27 altogether.

I know- sometime it's nice to go out to eat and not have to cook. I just find myself, more and more, figuring out how to make dishes I buy in restaurants. There are some things I just can't be bothered to figure out because I'd rather go out and get it. Yet pasta is fast becoming something I don't order because I resent the inflated price of it on a menu. Apparently, I'm not alone. Even after I started figuring out that pasta is one of the easiest and cheapest things to make, I read an article that interviewed chefs and what they expected when they ate out. Several of them said they refused to order pasta because it's so overpriced compared to the cost of making it.

That's not to say that if I went to a really good restaurant, I wouldn't order pasta. I might, if it was tempting enough but you better believe I want it to be homemade pasta that's something special. I admit, I even make my own pasta at times. It's really not as much work as people think and it tastes amazing. It takes time so I wouldn't resent paying for that in a nice restaurant. No, what I'm talking about is the Olive Garden/Macaroni Grill type of places that use Barilla pasta or whatever brand they prefer and serve it with pre-made sauces. They might taste nice but, trust me, you can make it at home for pennies compared to what they charge.

However, on the flip side, there are some things I'd rather get in a restaurant than make for myself but have no choice. Tonight, for example, I made Vietnamese pho soup. It's one of my favourite 'comfort foods'. When I lived in Los Angeles, there were pho places everywhere. You could get a bowl of pho- noodle soup with meats and herbs in a spiced broth- everywhere. It usually only cost about $5 for a bowl and I could never finish my helping. Here, in Cincinnati, it's hard to find. I've tried several places that claim to have it but it's just not the same. Thus, tonight, I tried a Food Network Magazine version. I have to say, it was pretty tasty. Not the same as the restaurants in L.A., of course, but still pretty nice. It wasn't that much work either. However, even though it tasted good, it just didn't give me that satisfied feeling that I always had when eating it in a restaurant.

So, there are two sides to every recipe, I suppose. Some are two easy and simple to make to merit paying restaurant prices and some are so hard and complex that it's just worth it to pay the price and eat it in a restaurant. For me, I'm still working on which is which. However, I'll keep trying new recipes. As long as I have Jungle Jim's to provide me with the ingredients, I'll happily keep experimenting. And keep shopping because, let's face it, that's just half the fun.

Happy Wednesday!

The Challenge of Mondays...

I always think the hardest part about Mondays is actually getting out of bed. Once you tell yourself it really and truly is time to get up and your feet finally hit your bedroom floor after being roused from a comfortable slumber, it's all slightly more downhill. Once you're up, you're up. The rest of the day passes, maybe in a bit of a fog, but it passes. When you're done, you're left with the triumph of knowing you got through another Monday.

But it's that getting out of bed that's the hardest. This morning, my bed was a warm cocoon around me. I had stayed up too late reading and all I wanted to do was snuggle into my down comforter and ignore the fact that my alarm was blaring and that it was time to put on Mr. Weatherman and Company to find out what was going on in the Cincinnati area.

I did make it today. It was hard. I keep my house cool at night- partially because it means I don't have to pay quite so much for heat and partially because I sort of like being cold until I climb under the covers and make my little nest. This morning, it felt cold without me needing to stick more than my nose out into my room. Getting up was painful. I wanted to bash my radio alarm with a hammer so that I could pretend it never went off.

Yet, as usual, I succumbed to the necessity of the workday and got up. After that, the day got easier.

It wasn't a bad day today. I'm in a busy phase at work. My days tend to rush by rather quickly. I had the added bonus of going to a birthday lunch today which was extra nice. My brownies seemed to be a hit. I went to put them away at the end of the day, back into their Tupperware, only to discover there was one, lone brownie left. Also, I didn't get pelted with my baked goods so thus, I think it was definitely a success.

Yet my favourite part of Mondays is the end of the day: Coming home. I like Monday evenings. To me, they're a reward after a hard, labourious day in the office. I rarely schedule anything for Monday evenings because I know I'm going to be useless. All I really want to do on a Monday night is come home, take off my shoes and relax. The rest of the week never seems to be quite as hard, it's really just Mondays.

That's not to say I don't like Mondays. They have their place. Everything must begin, just as everything must end. I appreciate Mondays because they make me appreciate Friday afternoons. Monday mornings are the polar opposite to a Friday afternoon. Monday mornings are, typically, sluggish blurs of time in which you tend to grunt at your coworkers in what you think is a friendly tone to ask about their weekend when, in actuality, you're still half-asleep and won't remember a few hours from when you asked. In contrast, ask a coworker what he/she has planned for the weekend and it's usually likely you might still remember on Monday. It's peculiar. Mondays are full of darkness, Friday's full of light. Naturally, this is only applicable to the employees, like me, who work a regular Monday to Friday week though I'm sure it's the same no matter when your workweek begins and ends.

My Monday evening is almost over. I didn't make quite as much of it as I wanted to though I did make a tasty dinner- Tuscan bean soup with spinach and garlic with parmesan crisps as an accompaniment. I also managed to make a shopping list based on recipes I want to try from my cookbooks. I managed to talk to a friend and to submit a query to another agent because I recieved a rejection yesterday from one of the five I queried last week. My current strategy is to submit one query for every rejection I receive. This way, in theory, I should always have five query letters out there in rotation, even when I get rejected. Hopefully, I can keep up with that.

Tomorrow night, I'd like to pretend I'm going to do what I always say I'm going to do: Come home, flop on the settee and do nothing but watch the television. However, even when I intend to do that, something ends up distracting me. Tomorrow, for example, I plan on a trip to Jungle Jim's. My recipes require ingredients and where better to find my ingredients that the best grocery store I've ever been to? I just hope they have cardoons. They generally do. I have two or three recipes which require them. The last time I was there, I bought them on a whim and ended up making an amazingly tasty Baked Cardoons- Roman Style recipe from Mr. Batali. Fabulous, if I do say so myself.

I'm rambling. However, since it's a Monday, I think I have a pass. Mondays are rambly type of days. I don't really know what my excuse is the other five days of the week but I bet you I could probably find a way to blog about it.

For now, however, this has been a Monday- for better or for worse. The way I look at it is that I managed to get out of bed and make it to work on time. It's not much but, for a Monday, it's half the battle. The rest of the week should be a breeze.

Happy Monday...

An Appreciation for Birthdays...

Somehow it's already managed to be Sunday night again and it seems like the weekend was just beginning. That's one of those mysteries to me: How can time during the workday move so slowly and yet the minute you're free, it whizzes by?

Nevertheless, no matter how quickly it went by, I managed to have a lovely weekend. Fortunately, the weather did not prevent my original plans of going to my parent's to celebrate my birthday. I'm glad: Had I not gone, I would have spent the day alone. That's not to say I don't like being alone but somehow, it would seem more lonely on my birthday.

It was a wonderful birthday in the end. It was nice to spend the day with my family, receive some amazingly thoughtful gifts and enjoy reading all the nice and thoughtful comments of Facebook. That's what I like about Facebook- even if it's a simple comment, it's nice to see that your friends know it's your birthday. It's a nice way of knowing people care enough to take the time to write something.

My birthday's almost over. I did my baking tonight when I got home from my parent's. My plan was to make a chocolate amaretti cake, some brownies and maybe some cranberry walnut cookies. Well, I ended up not making the cranberry cookies because I lacked walnuts. Also, I lacked the desire to make them. The chocolate amaretti cake became chocolate amaretti brownie bites. This is because the stupid cake stuck to the pan even after it was cool and even after I used non-stick spray. On the plus side, it tasted nice. On the downside, I had to cut squares out of my cake which had fallen to pieces. My brownies turned out ok...I think. I didn't try those. I figure if they get eaten,they were edible. Then again, I've seen people in office try to eat week-old-formerly-Awkard-bagels so perhaps being edible isn't too much of a requirement.

Aside from that, I spent the evening on the phone with a couple of my good friends. It's always nice to chat and catch up. I have some pretty cool friends. The fact that they all let me drone on about my adoration of Mario Batali speaks volumes about their tolerance of me. I'm still annoyed that he and Emeril Lagasse were defeated in the Iron Chef America "Super Chef" battle against Bobby Flay and the White House Executive Chef, Cristeta Comerford. For one thing, the judges were awful. They had Nigella Lawson who actually can cook and knows about food but then they had Jane Seymore and some Olympian athlete. Let's just say with the exception of Nigella, the judges were useless. In the end, while Bobby and Chef Comerford did ok, to me, it was obvious that Mario and Emeril did the best but because the secret ingredient was the White House's vegetable garden, I think it was pretty much skewered towards Comerford and Flay from the beginning. All I can say is I want to try that sweet potato raviolo that Mario Batali made. Yum.

Anyway, I digress. I was talking about my lovely birthday and my l0vely family and friends. It was a nice day. I wish it didn't have to end. I especially wish it didn't have to end with the thought of going to work tomorrow. However, I have treats ready to go, a birthday lunch with the girls from work planned and a pile of work waiting for me. Things could definitely be far worse. It's nice to say that, especially about a workday.

Happy Monday.

Good Endings to Mediocre Days...

There's nothing more frustrating than a computer that doesn't want to cooperate. I've been trying to get this blog posted for a while but for some unknown reason, my browser decided it was no longer accepting cookies and wouldn't let me log in. I find that fascinating. I changed nothing; I downloaded nothing. Yet my computer seems to have a mind of its own. I can't decide if that's fascinating or scary.

Obviously, I managed to conquer my computer's attempt at independence. I merely let it do it's thing then exuded my superiority over the thing. I think, really, that's probably a natural tendency. I am, after all, quite British. We conquer and become victors. Well, we did, at least...a few decades back. Nowadays, our victories tend to be a little less bloody and a little less bombastic. Still, I say...it's in our blood! We reign victorious!

My computer, at least, obeys when I shout at it.

And yes, thank you very much, I am fully aware that my computer is a non-thinking machine comprised of processors, chipsets, motherboards and other techie sounding things. I may have been relegated to the naughty corner of my company, the corner in which I am now, officially, the only member of staff NOT to be promised a new computer, but in my heyday- two years ago, at least- I used to be a respected technical support person. Nowadays, I'm sad to say if I even so much dare to imply that I know what my boss and the programmers are talking about when they discuss backend computer processes, they look at me as though I'm insane. My boss has said to me on several occasions that he's sure the technical stuff bores me and that he changes the subject even though I've tried to explain that I want him to continue because, shockingly, I am quite intelligent enough to follow what they're saying. It's sad that just two years ago, that was what I did for a living and I greatly enjoyed it but, alas, I can't get my current boss to even look at my resume and see that.

Pardon me, I think I'm starting to get a little bitter. I'm working on that. In fact, I intend to begin next year by fully discarding my bitterness. I can't promise it will vanish completely but I will do everything I can to remind myself that it's ok not to love my job and to focus on everything else in life.

Still, I have a couple of days before the New Year. I get to be a wee bit frustrated before I turn over my new leaf. It wasn't so bad today. Ok, so out of 27 or so employees, at best, there were only nine people working all day. Also, it was very quiet. However, someone did make popcorn in the popcorn maker so that was exciting.

Ok, I admit...I have absolutely nothing exciting to share with you about my work day. My evening, however, did include a trip to Jungle Jim's. I decided tonight would be the best night to go and complete my shopping list. I love going on week nights; it's much less busy and I can actually browse without feeling like I'm holding up a line. I went last weekend and, let me tell you, it was a scary zoo. Being a regular shopper there, I know my way around. I think I'm a little spoiled. I have my little route through the shop and I know where and how I want to navigate. I get a little bit frustrated when I'm scanning the wine specials and, without failure, there's someone cackling over the bottle of "Bitch" wine that they find. It's funny, I suppose. Yet, like with everything else, the charm wears off over time. Thus, I tend to dodge those folk and head instead to the next aisle. Sometimes, that works out well. Take tonight, for example. I found an absolutely lovely bottle of Kenwood red table wine on sale. I'm a sucker for red table wines. While I like a good, expensive bottle that's aged and mature, there's something soothing about a good, basic table wine. I think wine deserves respect but I also like it when it's respectful of someone who doesn't necessarily want to do the full production of sniffing, swirling, sipping, savouring and declaring. Table wine is meant to be consumed, it's meant to be enjoyed without pretense. I've had some bad ones- Sutter Home, for example- but, for the most part, many of them are innocent and flavourful.

I didn't intend to do too much shopping tonight but, as is usually the case, I bought more than I planned. My weaknesses are the cheese and produce section. I escaped the cheese tonight, thankfully. Yet the produce section seduced me. I ended up with far more than I needed. I was just so excited to find cardoons. I got Mario Batali's "Molto Italiano" cookbook for Christmas and there's a lovely recipe for "Cardoons- Roman Style" in there. I couldn't resist.

In case you haven't figured out, I'm becoming a bit of a Jungle Jim's junkie. If you've read my blog comments, you'll see that I'm fortunate enough to have someone from Jungle Jim's actually reading my blog when I tout the store's fabulousness. Thus, I shall give a subtle shout out to Phill Adams, Director of Development who occasionally is kind enough to comment on my blog. I'm eternally grateful whenever someone actually reads my blog, never mind commenting on it. So thank you, Phill Adams. You and your store are greatly appreciated.

As a side note, I actually did print out the application for the Assistant Manager of the Cheese Department and I'm seriously considering turning it in. Clearly, I'm dissatisfied about my job and I think it would be rather nice to do something I actually enjoyed. Also, I've recently decided that in addition to novels, I'd rather like to write about food and wine. I'm not sure how you actually get to do that but I think I'd quite enjoy it. I even confess I considered culinary school but there's a huge difference between pretending I'm Iron Chef Monkeypants and actually having to show that I can chop onions correctly. Oh, come on, don't tell me you haven't imagined you're on the Food Network when you're in the kitchen.

And now, as I realize that I may, indeed, be alone in that delusion, I'm slightly embarrassed. Yet not enough that I'm going to stop. I'm also not going to stop longingly caressing the Le Creuset Dutch Ovens whenever I see them nor the Mario Batali one that Jungle Jim's has in stock. One day, I shall own one. However, it may take a while. Those things are expensive. However, the orange ones would go just lovely in my kitchen which now has a rather attractive orange/persimmon accent to the utensils. I love my family for indulging my obsessions at Christmas.

I just realized that I spent eight hours of my day at work and only one hour at Jungle Jim's market. However, the one hour was infinitely more enjoyable than the preceeding eight. I think that's a bad sign. Also, it helped that when I came out of Jungle Jim's, it was snowing heavily. There's nothing better than a good snowfall to make me wax poetic about the simplicity and beauty of life. It doesn't matter whether the simplicity and beauty comes from a good snowfall or a trip to a good grocery store, it's how we feel in the end that counts. The end of my day was far better than my beginning and, for that, I am thankful. Sometimes...that's all I need.

Happy Tuesday!

Morning Musings...

I keep reminding myself that tomorrow is Friday. Sometimes, that's all it takes to get going in the mornings on a Thursday. Today, it's not quite enough but it helps.

My Thursday is off to one of those starts. I was already running late due to my ambitious attempts to get a loaf of bread baking in my breadmaker so it's ready by the time I get home from work for dinner. I have a horrid feeling it's not going to turn out. Try as I might to keep the liquids and yeast separated, there was a slight tidal wave incident as I was pouring in my olive oil and the yeast got soaked by that and the water.

Traffic was not fun this morning either. It meant I made it into the office eight minutes later than usual. My coworker had beaten me in to the office; this rarely happens. While many days, she's a lot of fun, she's also one of those people whose mood you can sense when you walk into the office based on how she responds when you say "Good Morning!"

Today was not a chipper response. Today was one of those, "talk to me again and I'll rip your throat out" responses. It's not that she's not a morning person but she's a person whose agenda and duties rank way higher in her own mind than they do in anyone elses' and so there are days when she's far too busy and important to deign to speak to me or our other office-mate. Usually, these are the days where we remain quiet and don't speak because she's a little scary. I don't mean that I'm actually physically afraid of her, it's more that to rile the beast is to have to listen to it and we do not like to do that.

She's also a little, um, noisy. She does not know this. On any given morning, there is the jangle of a bracelet on a keyboard, heavy sighing, the squeak of rubber since she sits on an exercise ball and the frantic, frenetic typing of one who has far too much to type in far too little time.

Of course, as I write this, I'm crunching loudly on a piece of toast. I finally gave in and joined the people who cook in the office. Sometimes, I don't feel like eating my toast while I'm driving in the mornings and today, I figured I might as well join the masses and use the toaster oven in the office. A good choice, I'd say. Having toast at work just makes it a better day.

My crunching toast led to a discussion about toaster ovens vs. toasters. Personally, I concur, toasters are easier. However, we don't have one in the office. We do, however, have a toaster oven. My coworker thinks it takes too long. To that, I say, "it's toast, it's worth the wait." Also, it's not like I'm standing there staring at it. I put it in the oven, walk away and when it tings, there's my toast. Voila!

Ok, so it doesn't pop up but, instead, is waiting for me in the oven which means it actually stays warmer for longer.

I think it might just be that lately, I've learned, sometimes it's better to take your time over food preparation and enjoy the process than just throw something in the microwave.

I blame the Food Network.

Of course, I blame them lately for everything food-related. It's almost like I've undergone a "Foodie Conversion." I still have the Lipton fettucine alfredo mix in my cupboard to remind me of how far I've come in a year. A year ago, I added margarine and butter to my soggy noodles and, voila, fettucini alfredo.

I'm not enough of a food snob that I still won't make this. Quick food has a time and a place and sometimes, it's all you want.

Yet, no more do I reach for the Lipton when I'm craving Alfredo and don't want to spend the money to go out. Mario Batali has shown me that with four simple ingredients, I can make delicious fettucine alfredo.

Bobby Flay has shown me that sometimes, the sauce makes the meal. You can dress up a piece of meat with a few fresh ingredients by making a sauce that tastes good and is usually nutritious.

Giada deLaurentis has shown me how to make simple italian food with easy ingredients that tastes as good as any restaurant food.

Alton Brown has taught me that breaking down what seems to be complicated methods of cooking is actually quite easy. Also, my Alton Brown salt pot is ridiculously useful.

I could keep going but you get the idea. Celebrity chefs are teaching me to cook and I didn't even plan it.

It's put a whole new dimension on my life. I used to mock my friends who used to go to kitchen stores and admire the tools. Now I go to the same stores and do the same thing. This weekend, I was extremely excited to find a nice potato ricer at TJ Maxx. I also got a new saute pan, some stoneware baking dishes and a new grater.

I'm sad. I'm obsessed. Cooking has become part of my life. I think it's probably filling a void but I don't see anything wrong with that. I'm hoping it's not trying to fill the void that I have because I'm not writing as much. I think that's really up to me though, isn't it?

I have thought about writing about cooking. Not a cookbook but a book about someone who likes to cook. Yet there is already quite a plethora out there. For some reason, there's an excess of books about women who seek fulfillment in life and find it in baking. Occasionally, there's a twist and they actually cook, not bake, but it's usually the result of any of the following:

1)Grief over the death of a beloved husband.
2) A way of finding themselves after the husband has left them for another woman.
3)A hidden love of cooking coming to the forefront as a woman discovers herself
4)An accidental discovery as a side effect of running away and needing to make a living...so they cook and discover they're geniuses at it.

You'd be surprised how much this happens. I've come to the conclusion that while chick lit aimed at the Bridget Jones' of the world tends to put the main character in either PR or a magazine setting, chick lit for the generation above them tends to put a recently divorced/widowed woman in a bakery or restaurant.

Anyway, I think for now, I'll keep my cooking separate from my writing. I can do both...I hope. In the meantime, I'm going to try to get some work done. That is if my coworker stops her jangling/squeaking/sighing/"oh shitting". Either that or I put my headphones on and tune her out.

Headphones it is.

Thanks for reading. Happy Thursday.

Reflections of Las Vegas...

I might still be asleep as I type this. I feel sort of like I'm in a haze, as though I never really woke up. I mean, technically, I know I have to be awake since I drove to work but since so many of us manage to often get from point A to point B without really knowing how as we drive, it's not unusual to completely zone out on the way.

I hate feeling this groggy. It's mornings like this where staying in bed seems so appealing. It's been cooler this week and the night air is managing to make for good sleeping weather. Of course, it might be the fact that I missed a full night's sleep on Saturday and I'm still catching up. That's what I get for going to Las Vegas.

The thing with Vegas is that it's easy to not sleep there. The Strip is intended for all-nighters, people stumbling from casino to casino, drinks in hand. It's a place for club-goers, the women dressed up in clothes that look like they came from Frederick's of Hollywood, the men trying to look spiffy in suits but somehow looking a little too much like used-car salesmen. Don't get me wrong, there is some elegance in Las Vegas, I just didn't see much of it.

I know that when you go to a club as a female, you're supposed to dress trendily, show some of your skin. It's what you do. That's why most club dresses are short enough that you can almost see the wearer's underwear. Me, personally...I've never been a fan of clubbing. I don't like that intense pulse of the music in the thick air where you have to yell to make yourself heard. Clubs are places to go and dance, to meet people.

I prefer concerts where there's room to move. You go there for the music; it's not just the background. You can also dress low-key and no one cares because they're there for the music too.

But clubs are a different story. Vegas is full of them. Most of the high-end ones are in the glitzy casinos like Bellagio, Caesar's Palace, Mandalay Bay and The Wynn. These are the places you hear about in the media where the likes of Lindsay Lohan and other burned-out young Hollywood goes to party. I'm sure there's a point but it's not something I care enough about to explore. I do enjoy watching the people dress up, however.

My trip to Vegas was a whirlwind. I did manage to do a 'restaurant tour' though. Or, perhaps I should say a, um, 'Window-Shopping Restaurant Tour.' At the indulgence of my good friend, I got to peer in the windows of the restaurants of Mario Batali, Bobby Flay, Kerry Simon and Todd English. I did, however, get to sample the wares of Francois Payard, one of the world's best pastry chefs.

I have to say, there's a reason Francois Payard is considered one of the best pastry chefs. We sampled a couple of croissants while we were there and I got a truffle to take home with me. The truffle? Best I ever had. It wasn't too rich, it was just perfect. I'm spoiled now: No truffle will ever taste the same.

While we didn't eat at any of the restaurants on my tour, we did eat at Le Villages Buffet in the Paris Casino. This is by far my favourite. It has stations set up to represent the regions of France and it has a champagne brunch on the weekends. When I go there, my favourite thing is the crusty baguette pieces, the cheeses, smoked salmon and the accompaniments like cornichons, olives, and capers. That's usually my first plate. The second plate is usually experimental. This time, I finally tried ratatouille. I had to get over the prejudice I had because of the silly rat movie. I have to confess, it was delicious. As long as I don't find out a rat is cooking it, I have a feeling it could become a favourite. I also tried some other things I normally don't eat, things that were decidedly French. Overall, if you're going to Vegas, it's a splurge to go there but, really, for $24, champagne and beverages inclusive, it's pretty good for all-you-can-eat at a buffet.

We also managed to eat at what is considered to be one of the best Thai restaurants in the States: Lotus of Siam. It really was the best Thai I ever had. I'm a huge fan of Tom Yum Kai, the spicy-sweet chicken soup with lemongrass and other Thai flavours and I have to say, theirs was the best. Same goes for the pad-see-ew that we ordered. I prefer that to Pad Thai. We also tried curry.

By the time we left, we were so stuffed full, it was ridiculous. We ended up heading to a part of Vegas I'd never seen before: The Fremont Street Experience.

I have to say the 'Experience' itself was a wee bit lame. I think a few years ago, it would have been cooler. Essentially, it's a canopy where they do light shows to music. Back before it was videos playing, it probably was something to see. As it stands now, you're basically just watching a video above your head. Sort of like an uncomfortable IMAX experience.

Still, the street itself is something to behold. It's Vegas at it's tired best. The glitz and high-end glamour of the Strip hasn't spread here. Instead, it's old-school Vegas with worn-down casinos and neon lights that sing a song of the days of the Rat Pack. There are tourist stores galore here. The casinos like The Golden Nugget are old and tired. Some of them even still use coins and buckets to catch them. Most of the newer casinos are all digital and give out a redemption ticket instead of coins.

You can still get yard-long drinks here but they're a little pricier than on the strip. There are less young people stumbling along, trying to remember where they're staying because they're lost in the fuzzy world of being drunk. It's an older crowd down on Fremont Street, a little more local and a little less frenetic. It's a fun place to go if you want a break from the intensity of the Strip. I'm glad I went. Not only did I see a new part of Vegas but I got to put nickels into a slot machine. I hate nickels.

The highlight of my trip was, of course, the Green Day concert. For those that know me, you know I'm a huge fan of the band. I've seen them several times in concert and I've never ever been disappointed. This is a band that knows how to engage an audience. They call kids up to sing and they pull a guitarist out of the audience to play with them. It's fun to watch someone's dreams come true. This was one of the best shows I've seen them do; they played many old hits as well as new. It gave my trip to Vegas a focus, a memory that I'll keep with me for life.

This weekend, I'm not doing anything as fancy as going to Vegas. In fact, for a long time, I hope not to do anything that fancy. While it was a great time, it was also exhausting. I need to be a homebody for a while, spend some time with my new house, figuring out what I can afford to do and what I want to focus on in the future. I need to have life calm down for a while now, no more Comic-Con, no more Vegas, no more adventures for a while.

Of course, I do have to go to the DMV this weekend. That's always an adventure. Better catch on sleep first though.

Happy Thursday.

Las Vegas: A Food Network Junkie's Paradise...

Technically, today is my Friday since I'm flying to Las Vegas tonight and don't have to work tomorrow. Short work weeks are nice.

I'm excited about Las Vegas; it's a fun city to visit. I'm not a huge gambler, for the most part the most ambitious I get is playing up to nine cents a spin on the penny slots. Rarely, I will play a dollar in the 25 cent slots but usually once I spend a dollar with no profit, I usually slink back to my penny slots.

Ironically, though it's the city's best known pasttime, gambling is not the best thing about Vegas, not in my opinion.

Prior to my becoming a Food Network Obsessed Junkie, I used to enjoy the spectacle of the casinos a lot. As you walk down the strip, each casino is trying harder than the last to get you to come inside. From the fire-lit waters of Treasure Island after their evening spectacles to the traditionally engaging dancing waters of the Bellagio, you could spend an entire evening just going from free show to free show without gambling a penny.

Inside the casinos is another story. I find some of them slighly dizzying- Paris, for example. The inside of the casino has blue skies on the ceiling, as does Venice and though you know it's a casino, there's something bizarrely surreal about trying to pretend you're outside while you're actually inside a room filled with clanging, tinging, ringing, trilling slot machines.

Of course, now I'm a Food Network Junkie, I have a horrible feeling I'm going to feel differently about my priorities in Vegas. Being the new hot spot for celebrity chefs, there are restaurants galore there including efforts by Bobbie Flay, Mario Batali, Todd English and many other Food Network favourites. The last time I went with friends, a couple of them wanted to see the outside of Mesa, Bobbie Flay's restaurant in Caesar's palace. They didn't need to go in. They wanted to see it.

I thought they were a little strange. I couldn't figure out why you'd go look at a restaurant and not eat there.

I owe them an apology. I get it now and I hang my head in sheepish embarrassment. Having learned about the abrasive and arrogant charms of Bobby Flay and his talents with food...I understand.

I'd do the same for Mario Batali's restaurants in the Venice Casino.

Yes, I am aware I sound like a fruitcake.

The thing with Vegas is that there's too much good stuff to eat. Almost every casino offers a buffet ranging from the spectacular to the Sizzler-esqe-sadly-hopeful-but-failing-miserably attempts of the lower budget casinos. Restaurants like Flay's Mesa and Batali's Carnevino Italian Steakhouse and B & B Ristorante are expensive for the frugal traveler like myself. Don't get me wrong, I'd splurge in a heartbeat if I had the time and money. Yet this trip especially is two days long and I'm watching my wallet so if I'm going to spend $30 on a meal, I'm likely to go to a buffet. Now, if I knew Bobbie Flay or Mario Batali were going to personally cook for me, I'd reconsider.

I find it ironic that one of the main reasons that I'm going to Las Vegas is because Green Day are playing tomorrow night and I have tickets. Don't get me wrong, I can't wait for the Green Day concert. It'll be fantastic, I'm certain. Yet I do find it rather curious that I'm getting as excited about the Food Network-y ties of the city as I am about the concert.

Still, I'm sure regardless of if I get to peer longingly into the windows of any of the restaurants, I'm going to feel slightly dorky and slightly happy. Rather like when I went to Comic-con. For the longest time, I tried to pretend that I was just a little quirky. Over the years, the fact that I'm just a full on geek/nerd/peculiar person is just getting too hard to hide so... I'm embracing it. The beautiful thing is that the people who love me know I'm a dork and thus, they allow me to go with it. This is why I know that my good friend who I'm excited to meet in Vegas will indulge me should I feel the need to do a 'walk-by' of Mr. Batali's restaurants. Of course, she's very logical and I expect her to suggest that we go inside because that is what normal people do.

Me, I'm just happy to see it. But, then again, we've established....normal doesn't really live here, does it?

Happy Thursday.

Reality: (Potentially) Buying a House is Scary....

I'm a very tired Monkeypants today. That's what I get for staying up too late. Truth be told, I don't think I could have gone to bed any earlier. I had a very busy evening and I was a little bit wired. Besides I had decided to bake bread in my bread machine at about 11:15 p.m. and I wanted to ensure that it rose so I couldn't go to bed any earlier until the bread was actually baking.

I went house hunting last night, as I mentioned yesterday. I put an offer down on a place. It's a terrifying, overwhelming thought. It's also an exhausting process. I looked at six places last night. Of the six, three were very great houses. The first one I looked at was cute, had an awesome little yard and was on a nice street. It also had a converted garage that I loved for the fact that it was a room that could be anything I wanted it to be. The kitchen was small though and the laundry room was the kitchen. I have a feeling, in summer, that kitchen must get awfully warm when the dryer is on. I put that on hold in my mind. There were things I loved about that house. It also helped that the current owner is clearly a younger man into graphic novels and comic book type stuff, rather like me. My realtor is quite nosy which is fun. Plus he'd left some of his art on the kitchen table; he had some tattoo sketches and some panels from graphic novels. He was really good. I actually wanted to meet him because just looking around his place, he seemed very interesting. And clean. The house was...very clean.

We looked at a couple of other places that were ok but nothing spectacular. Then we got to see a house I'd wanted to see the last time I was out. Since it's still occupied, it makes it harder to get in for a look. On the porch, last night, sat this little old lady, waiting for us. The front yard was immaculate, the house clearly well-taken care of. We talked to her for a while and then we went in.

This house felt like home immediately. It was clear from the pictures on the walls that this house belonged to people who had loved it. There were photos of the lady with her husband. He wasn't there which led both my realtor and I to think she'd been recently widowed. The house itself was lovely. It just needs a little updating. Without trying to sound like an age-ist, it was pretty obvious that the house belonged to old people. Just a replacing of the curtains would make the house seem a lot more modern. But, overall, it felt like a home to me. It had the big kitchen I wanted, a laundry area, a garage. It has a big yard, nice sized bedrooms. All the appliances come with the house. The price was low. The taxes are low. Long story short...I felt like this was my house.

My realtor agreed that it seemed like a great buy. Afterwards, we talked to the lady for a while. Sure enough, she was widowed three years ago. I was relieved to find out she'd only been living in the place for twelve years. I would have felt horribly guilty wanting her house if she'd been there, say, thirty years or something. Twelve years is long enough to feel like a place is home and I felt for her because she was clearly sad. Yet because the driveway had a little slant, she said she had trouble with it and her son wanted her to move to Alabama to live with him.

By the time I was done talking to her, I knew that the neighbourhood was great, the location was great and I'd be getting more than a good buy: I'd be getting a place that was well loved, treasured, even. Also, you'll be happy to know she's not the "Derron Lady" although I will confess for a few seconds when she first spoke, she sounded a little like that lady. On a side note, she's still calling. I've discovered that Derron is her grandson. She always calls when I'm not home now and leaves Derron messages on my machine. I almost feel like I should offer to help locate Derron next time she calls. She just sounds so irritated that my answering machine is answering the phone and I still have not yet transformed into Derron.

I digress, as usual. Anyway, so, after looking at a few other places that didn't compare, I knew I had to move forward. My realtor took me to dinner and talked me through the process. I will tell you that just making an offer on a house is exhausting. There are hours worth of paperwork to be completed. I can't even imagine the amount of paperwork if I actually get to buy the house.

So, it's been just over a month since I decided I wanted to look into buying. Now I might have a place. I'm trying not to hope too much because if my offer isn't accepted, I'll be disappointed. However, like everything else in life, if it doesn't work out, I'll adjust. However, if it does work out, I will cross their scary bridge of thinking about being a homeowner and becoming one.

So, you see, last night was an adventure. I got in late. I knew I couldn't sleep. So I decided to try again with the bread, attributing the previous night's failure to bad yeast. This time, I knew I couldn't fail: I found Mario Batali's recipe for basic bread. With Mario behind me, what can go wrong? However, I did read the comments below and discovered the recipe has a typo: use 1 and a half cups of water rather than just the half-cup that is printed.

By the time I'd made the bread, I still wasn't tired and so I'd chatted on the phone to my friend in California. By the time I was done, the bread was rising and almost ready to start baking. This time, it looked like bread, at least.

I woke up this morning to a loaf of lovely crusty bread. I just had some for breakfast and have to say, once again, Mario Batali is my hero. It is delicious. I have my ham sandwich for lunch. I will find out this afternoon if my offer is accepted. I'm terrified. But I'm also excited. I'll keep you posted. Thanks, as always for reading...

Happy Wednesday!

IKEA, Cooking and a Rainy Start to the Week

It's a dark and stormy Monday morning. The sky is grey and heavy and looks like it's going to open any minute and launch a torrent onto the world beneath that is just waking up and trying to be motivated to go to work or school. It's one of those days where there's an ominous tone to the world, heavy with greys and shadows, the flowers looking as though they're trying to hide from the heavy rains that loom, imminent.

I know how they feel. I think most people do on Monday mornings. I have yet to meet a person who sits up and jumps out of bed saying "YAY! It's Monday!!!". If those people exist, they would frighten me.

I think my problem is that I like weekends too much. I love having two days that don't conform to the self-made pattern of my work weeks. I like knowing I can get up when I like, even if it is always around 9 a.m. at the latest. I like knowing I can read in bed if I still don't want to get up, that I can work out any time I choose.

This weekend was another good one. I spent the day on Saturday with a friend. We went to IKEA. I love IKEA. I love that you can go in there and spend less than $35 and come out with a ton of handy items, some of which you might actually need. I do need to make a note to myself that I really need to NOT watch "Iron Chef America' before I go to IKEA. You see, this leads me to do something I never thought I would ever do: Get excited over kitchen tools. I used to mock my friends and my dad for getting excited over odd contraptions like fancy peelers, sodium containment units (a fancy salt pot for those unfamiliar with Alton Brown and the Food Network) and chopping boards. This weekend, I went to IKEA and I got excited over a peeler and chopping boards and a French press coffee maker. Yes, I've crossed over to the dark side. You know you're in trouble when the lemon juicer just has to be yours because squeezing fresh lemons is far better than buying those plastic lemons full of concentrated lemon juice.

Stupid "Iron Chef."

Aside from IKEA, we browsed Barnes and Noble which, alas, did not have any copies left of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, a book that my friend really wanted to read and was kindly going to loan me. Yes, it's based on the original text of Pride and Prejudice but has, you know, zombies attacking the village of Meryton and it's up to Elizabeth Bennett and Proud Mr. Darcy to defeat them. What's not to like about that?

We also went to see a movie. We saw "State of Play". Yes, I know, I know, I've complained about that remake a couple of times. I can hear you thinking, "Wow, Captain Monkeypants is a hypocrite. She's supporting Hollywood in their horrid remake campaign." My defense is....an embarrassed shrug. It's true. I have no defense. I will merely apologise and move on.

Actually, I won't. You didn't really expect that, did you? My friend wanted to see it and it was the only movie starting at the time we wanted to see one. It had good reviews and, I confess, Iwas curious to see what they did with it. It was...ok.

The original is far, far better. I will say the movie did a fabulous job of condensing the mini-series which ran over five hours into a two hour movie. Russell Crowe was excellent in his role. Rachel McAdams was good, also. Ben Affleck played Ben Affleck very nicely. I was a little confused why Helen Mirren decided to act her role as though she were playing Bill Nighy playing her role. I mean, even her gestures were very similar to those of Mr. Nighy in the original. Over all, it was ok. I missed the James McAvoy role from the original and was disappointed that Jason Bateman's slimy character didn't have more screen time or a larger role but, as I said, it wasn't bad at all. I still say watch the original, it's much less polished, far grittier and far more believable. However, the BBC mini-series does lack Russell Crowe's spectacularly bad hairstyle, I'm sad to say.

The rest of my weekend was rather nice. I woke up on Sunday with the urge to cook. Stupid Food Network. Stupid Mario Batali. So, I cooked. I made homemade ravioli. I made the dough myself. It was ridiculously easy because Mario Batali told me it was and he's usually right. I stuffed it with roasted butternut squash and tossed it in a sage butter sauce. I also added a salad of sauteed beet greens topped with roasted beets.

You're scared, aren't you? Yes, me too. I think I might have officially watched too much "Iron Chef America". I will say that the meal was delicious, even though that sounds horribly self-congratulatory. My only problem is that I still lack a rolling pin and I, naturally, do not own a pasta rolling machine thingy so I had to use my infamous trick of using a wine bottle to flatten out the pasta dough. Thus, no matter how hard I pressed down, the dough remained thicker than it should. It was tasty...just thick. I like that I can try these recipes on myself and if they're revolting, I'm the only one who has to know. However, if it does turn out right, I can add that to my repetoire for when I do cook for others. It's fun. I'm planning on trying to cook in my parent's far better equipped kitchen soon. My dad has all the gadgets including a pasta rolling thingy. I plan on using my mother as my sous chef. She doesn't know this yet.

As for the house hunting, that was postponed by my realtor. We're going tonight, instead. I'm excited. It'll be interesting to see the difference between the fiction of the pictures I've been viewing of houses and the reality of the houses themselves. I think I'm prepared. I don't plan on falling madly in love with one place and putting all my hopes on that because I know that often, you have to make offers on a couple of places before you finally get one. The looking is the fun part. I plan on enjoying that.

So, thus ends the past week and today the new one begins. It's a little less stressful since the pressure of making it in the ABNA contest is off though, in the end, that turned out to be little stress, just a good rallying point for me to realize, once again, it's about the roadtrip, not the destination.

In a way, I like that it's raining. It seems fitting for a Monday morning. I'm sure as the week passes, the clouds eventually will too. In the meantime, they provide a convenient excuse for my Monday sluggishness, not the fact that I stayed up too late reading. I shall, to quote Milli Vanilli, those old pop "singers" of yore, "Blame it on the rain." Why not?

Happy Monday.