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!)

Whirlwind Weekends....

This was one of those weekends that just flew by. I don't even know where the time went. I don't even feel like I did that much but somehow I manage to eat up two days of time without really knowing where they went.

Now it's back to work tomorrow to begin another week. Things at work haven't been too terribly lately. I can't say I'm dancing through the daisies as though I were in the Sound of Music but, for the most part, I haven't visualized using my yoga strap for anything other than relaxing.

And I did have a good weekend even if it flew by too quickly. I managed to get my book formatted and uploaded and a cover designed- front, back and spine- so that it can start being sold on Amazon.com. It's funny, a few books ago, I was very against self-publishing. It always has such a stigma attached to it- an idea that "You can't get published and the only choice you have is to do it yourself."

That's how I felt up until a couple of months ago. Then I wrote The Reluctant Demon. It's the first mainstream book I've really written. It's humourous. It has a female protagonist. I hate to sound arrogant but I'm pretty sure it's written well. And to top it all off, it's a timely subject: A woman falls in love with a supernatural creature. Ok, so, right now, the craze is still vampires but demons aren't that far off....just watch a few episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I still couldn't get an agent to give me the time of day.

I think in my mind, the power has shifted. A few years ago, writers were reliant on agents and publishing companies. Now, the publishing industry is faltering- the small companies have been swallowed by the bigger companies and there's really not many places for new, unpublished writers to go.

So, now, instead of feeling like I'm selling out by publishing myself, I can't help but feel this rush of power. It's in my hands. Granted, I won't have the media campaigns that the popular novels get but it means I can get people to read my stuff. And, in truth, that's all I want. I don't want the money...I just want to be read. I think, at heart, that's what most of us writers want.

I suppose that means I had a good, productive weekend, even if it did fly by. I also got to go to Jungle Jim's which, as you probably know if you read this regularly, always makes a day better. This time, I absolutely, positively have to laud Jungle Jim's. They made my insane obsessive Foodie dreams come true: They had fresh quail eggs.

I know, I know, this may not seem like a huge deal but as I mentioned a few blogs ago, quail eggs had become a quest. I see them on the Food Network all the time and all I wanted to do was try them. Jungle Jim's carries them in a canned form but not in the fresh, bespeckled beauty I always see on TV. In all my trips to Jungle Jim's, I've never found them fresh. And then, when I least expected it, as I was leaving the produce section to move on to the international aisles, there they were, right next to the balut eggs.

As a side note, they usually don't have balut, either. It's one of those, uh, delicacies that has always fascinated me, rather like seeing the sheeps, cow and pigs heads they often carry at Jungle Jim's. For those of you that don't know, balut is a fertilized duck (or chicken) egg with a nearly-developed embryo inside that is boiled and eaten in the shell. It's very popular in the Phillippines. I've never been able to bring myself to try one though I have watched my Filipino friends eat them. I think if I'd been brought up to eat them, it wouldn't bother me but, well, I wasn't and my British palate isn't quite brave enough to try them. If you can't quite comprehend why this might be a little, um, un-palatable, just Google it to look for pictures. You might get it then.

Even if I wasn't about to buy any, I was impressed that Jungle Jim's had some in stock.

Not as impressed as the quail eggs though. I snatched a package up- gently, of course. I confess, I, um, sort of hugged them a little in my excited. Then, as I walked around the rest of the store, I kept my hand on them to a) keep them safe so they didn't get broken in transit and b) to make sure no one stole them. Since they had a plethora of them, I'm quite sure that no one would have stole them but in my haze of excitement at actually finding them, I wasn't about to take any chances.

Also, they had my cipollini onions that I haven't been able to find. Fresh, small, cipollini onions....I think it's safe to say, Jungle Jim's is the best grocery store...ever. As of this moment, there's no longer anything I've seen on the Food Network that I haven't been able to find at Jungle Jim's.

It's odd the things that make a weekend good....quail eggs, self-publishing and a long, leisurely walk around a grocery store. I suppose it's good when the small things in life can make me happy.

Or they make me weird....or, at least, odd....Nevertheless, I cooked my first quail eggs today....

Delicious.

Happy Monday!

Raves and Rants...

It's a week before Christmas Eve. I'm excited by this fact. I, personally, love Christmas Eve more than any other day of the year. That's not to say I don't like Christmas Day but, as I've said, I love that anticipation of Christmas Eve, that waiting, that excitment that builds and grows and becomes the embodiment of Christmas. I always find Christmas Day to be just a wee bit anticlimactic, the presents open, the turkey cooked and...exhaustion hits.

No, I'm a Christmas Eve Monkeypants. I like the preparations that lead up to that day, the rush and activity of Christmas Eve as the last presents are wrapped, last minute stocking-stuffers are bought and the thrill of something hovers in the air.

For now, however, there's a week left. It's a week for me to continue with my cliched salute to the holidays, my Trans-Siberian Orchestra CD/Playlist blaring in my ears, my gingerbread waiting to be baked, my roster of Christmas DVD's on a stack, waiting to suit my mood. I admit: I know it's a lot of commercialism. Yet, if you combine the commercial side of Christmas with the side that actually understands why the season exists, you have a pretty nice balance. I, personally, can't say anything other than "I love Christmas!"

It puts me in a good mood, even when there's things conspiring to level my mood to that of unhappiness. It makes me focus on the positive and only dwell enough on the negative that it inspires one tirade and I'm done.

So, in all fairness, I think it's only fair that in addition to my rants, I give a rave or two before I rant again.

Thus, my first 'rave' goes out to United Airlines. I can't say you're perfect but, well, you've redeemed yourself slightly. If you're a regular reader, you'll know I've had issues with United in the past. I can't say I truly support the Economy vs. Economy Plus seating. I mean, on other airlines, it is perfectly normal NOT to fly with your knees up by your ears when you book a coach flight. On United, unless you pay the the $49 for 'extra room', that's how you're going to fly.

Nevertheless, when I flew to L.A. this weekend, United did redeem themselves by simply getting me to where I needed to be without problems. I confess, on the way home from L.A. to Dayton, I was cynical. I had 40 mins to connect from one flight to another AND I'd checked luggage. Given my myriad of past experiences, this could have been a problem. Normally, I'd be landing, a sense of panic in my throat and tummy and I'd be running as soon as I got off a plane to find out exactly how far I had to peg it in order to board my flight. Not this time, however. For once, United actually got me to my connection early.

I know, I know. It's a shock. I got to the Chicago airport early and was taken aback by the fact that I only had to go one terminal over and I had an extra 20 minutes to do so. Given that I was travelling on a $250 voucher, it was a bit of a shock to discover there were no complications: My plane had landed early and I was going to make my connection on time.

Thus, I have to salute United Airlines. I think you could improve the legroom thing a bit but I do respect your improved customer service. Given that my prior United experiences have ranked on a scale from pure suckiness to tolerable, having a good experience is something to write home about. Thus, I salute you. Keep it up.

I also have to salute Jungle Jim's International Market. A week or so ago, I blogged about not being able to find quails' eggs at the store. In fact, having scoured Whole Foods, Jungle Jims, Trader Joe's AND Kroger Fresh Fare and finding no quail's eggs at all, I was going to give up hope. Then, in response to my whining, someone from Jungle Jim's did respond. I was humbled and happy that someone actually read my blog and listened. I even went to Jungle Jim's last night and found the quails' eggs as suggested. Unfortunately, the ones suggested were in a can. As a snobbish foodie (and as someone who watches WAY too much Food Network) I was hoping for fresh eggs, the type I used to see all the time when I lived in California. I wish I'd known then what I know now because those quails' eggs would have been mine. Nevertheless, I completely respect the fact that someone actually bothered to read this blog AND offer suggestions. I will continue to frequent Jungle Jim's- partly because it's the only place in the area that caters to my obsessive needs but, also, because it's awesome.

Now onto the rants. I hear that when life hands you lemons, you're supposed to make lemonade. Me, I tend to yell at the lemons for a while until they start to mean nothing. Then I drink my lemonade quietly.

It's time for me to yell at the lemons.

In this case, the lemons are UPS. You know them. United Postal Service. "Brown." The friendly representatives who are supposed to pay $8 just to wear the offical socks of their company.

Yes, I know for a fact that their socks cost $8. When I worked at USC, the UPS guy was my buddy and once I knew he'd answer, I asked him about his socks. For the record, yes, they're supposed to wear the offical UPS brown socks with a logo. They cost $8. My UPS driver could not afford this type of expense for socks and, thus, he went elsewhere, bought brown socks and pushed them down so they were 'slouching'. This not only covered up the fact that they weren't UPS socks but, also, saved him money. He was a bit of an odd UPS man, I'll admit that. He was the type who said "You should check that out sometime," when he talked of an event in the area. He never asked me out. He never mentioned we should date. He simply said vague things like "You should check that out. I'll be there!" He also said it to my good friend so I can't even pretend that he liked me in particular. He was odd.

Nevertheless, even though he worked for UPS, I tried to distance him from the company for which he worked. Yet...he was a loyalist. He loved UPS.

Now me? I want to but, really, I despise them. Hence...we enter the Rant portion of this blog.

Once upon a time, Captain Monkeypants had a best friend (Saz) whom she'd known for many years. Captain Monkeypants had known her friend since high school, a time in which they both joined Drama Club, had bad experiences and had embraced their college years as a time in which things started to matter.

Even with the obstacles of different lives, Captain Monkeypants and Saz remained friends. They eventually travelled together and found that bi-annually trips to New York and Los Angeles were fun. Then Captain Monkeypants moved to L.A. and Saz found that trips to L.A. were even easier becasue she had a futon on which to sleep.

Captain Monkeypants and Saz would find things to do in L.A . that were fun. Eventually, they discovered Santa Barbara and the Santa Ynez valley. They went wine tasting. They had fun. They found a nifty winery called "Sanford." It was a small, family owned place in which the wine pourers were knowledgable and friendly and, also, the wine tasted wonderful. The favourite selection of Saz and Captain Monkeypants was vin Gris. It was a variation on Pinot Noir that was pleasant, aromatic and wonderful.

Then a movie came out called "Sideways." Sanford was featured in the film. They mentioned Vin Gris. It became impossible to buy Vin Gris. For several years, it was difficult for someone to order Vin Gris because it was always sold out.

Then came 2009. Captain Monkeypants realized Saz's birthday was approaching and, remembering how much Saz had loved Sanford Vin Gris, she daringly checked the website.

Success! Finally, Sanford had the elusive wine in stock! Thus, it was that Captain Monkeypants ordered two bottles of the delicious libation to be delivered to Saz for her birthday.

And thus became the horrors of UPS.

In order to receive a shipment of wine, a human must be 21 years of age. Saz is over 21 but, unfortunately, missed the first delivery attempt.

Then, even though she left strict instructions on redirecting the package if a delivery was unsuccessful, Saz was thwarted in the second attempt to receive the package.

Thus, tonight, she decided to reign triumphant over UPS. She took the afternoon off work to ensure she would be home when they tried to deliver. She made sure her front call box was hooked up to her apartment, in case UPS came by. She even left a note telling UPS where to buzz if they had a package for her.

The story does NOT have a happy ending.

For, you see, UPS apparently does not require identification to deliver a package. Thus, it was, that some random, cruel stranger told the UPS driver that he was, in fact, Saz and, thus it was, that he received Saz's package.

Now, here's where I abandon the tale and I rant. The question is this: If someone (Saz) does EVERYTHING in her ability to make sure UPS knows how and where to deliver a package, how is that a random stranger from the street can waltz up to the UPS driver, claim that he is my friend and receive her wine???

I get it. UPS drivers are overworked. They're tired. They don't have the time to dial the ten-digits that it might require to inform a recipient that their package has arrived. I get that.

What I DON'T get is how come it's not ok to redirect a package that requires an over-21 signature because it contains wine but it's ok to just hand it off to some nasty, selfish pig who decides he wants to steal?

And yes, I am aware I sound harsh but what kind of person just takes a package, pretends it's his and doesn't worry about the fact that he's robbing a person of a gift?

I hate that I'm not more shocked about his world in which we live. Yet, sadly, I am not. I am, however, disgusted at the pig who doesn't even worry about the fact that he's stealing but, rather, that he's got a package from UPS that isn't addressed to him.

My anger is directed at UPS. Seriously? SERIOUSLY? A person on the street walks up to you and claims they're the recipient of a package. A smart person/company would say, "well, let me see some i.d.".

But not UPS. Instead they hand it off to the stranger. Saz forwarded me the signature. It is not hers. It is an imposter. SHAME ON YOU, UPS. I get that you're busy but, really? You're so busy that you can't say, "can I see some ID?" before you hand over the box?

Fortunately, I ordered from Sanford. Let me tell you, this is a top notch business. Not only was their representative- Donna- nice but she was also sympathetic. She quickly offered to reship my order and, endearing herself forever to me, told me that she'd be yelling at UPS the next day.

I am lucky. I ordered from a place that recognizes customers individually, not as a number. Donna made me feel better. Saz will get her Vin Gris, somehow...somewhere.

Yet it is UPS whom I question. What kind of business sense do they have? Really? You deliver to some random idiot on the street who happens to know the last name of an apartment occupant? Shame on you, UPS...check the damn driver's license next time!

That is all I have to say on that for now. All I can add is that I adore the Post Office and, given the UPS blunder, I will be relying on USPS far more now than ever. I know I'll be alone in my resolve but, if you're reading, think again about UPS...you don't want your shipment ending up in the wrong hands.

Nevertheless, with a week before Christmas Eve, I shall keep my fingers crossed that Saz shall recieve her package. The element of surprise at the gift is gone but maybe, just maybe, the element of surprise will exist in the fact that UPS ever manages to get her wine to her without someone stealing it.

Christmas is full of hope, right?

Happy Wednesday!