MMM MMM Good!

Yes.  Part of my 40 Day of Eat Pray Love, I intended to cook 4 new recipes.  I still have the time… but I did my first one the other day and well… it was a success.  Now everyone wants to have the recipe.  I don’t mind.  I caused the issue… I posted the pot and a few pics of the soup on line.  I’m thinking that I got the cooking gene from my mom.  That woman CAN cook.  I only wish I can cook half as well as she can. I try.  And yesterday’s soup was one more step towards being a good cook.

About a year ago, I found a website, www.thugkitchen.com, and I hadn’t laughed so hard at a blog.  Now mind you, every other word is the f bomb on this blog (and they could be relatives with the language similarities),  but they are a bit inspirational.  I won’t be a Barefoot Contessa or Pioneer Woman, but I’ll be a sassy chick with a wooden spoon. (Oh… some of you went there.  Put down the 50 Shades and get to choppin)

Ok Then… it’s time for me to share my cooking experience. In my words.  In my style. 

ZUPPA TOSCANA… a la Miz M
This soup almost didn’t happen.  I couldn’t find ground Italian sausage at first in the store and I almost chucked the whole thing.  Yes, a “fuck it moment” in the store. But as I put the kale back and almost started to think about making a pot roast, I found the ground Italian sausage.  I grabbed a pound of the sweet Italian sausage and figured that I’ll add a little more of the red pepper flakes and spice that shit up.

Got the ingredients. (And the last package of kale)  Went back home and started in on this bad boy.

Got out my stock pot and went to town. I didn’t get an enameled Dutch oven for Christmas.  I only hinted for freaking months and even people who would have benefited from me getting said Dutch Oven and watched me look at them every chance I got still didn’t get the damn hint… but that’s water under the bridge. I'll buy my own fricken Dutch oven. Enough said. Kitchens don’t need bitter cooks.  My trusty stockpot did the job. It's good for that Martha Stewart Tri Clad bitch to get used to death.

Add a large splash of olive oil to your stockpot and add the sausage.  Brown it up until there is no pink in the meat and don't let it get crusty. I don't mind the crust sometimes, but in this case   - NOPE.   There will be chunks and small parts.  Just make sure there’s no pink, but don’t let it crumble up like you’re making sloppy Joes or loose meat sandwiches.  You want chunks.  Trust me on this. 
Once the meat is browned nicely, set it aside and drain whatever grease is on the bottom.  If there is scrapings on the bottom… KEEP them.  Next, grab about 7 slices of bacon.  I got the thick cut smoked.  I’m thinking next batch, I’m going with pancetta, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll have the flavor of good old bacon.  Before you flop it in the pan, cut it in fourths or smaller.  (Trust me on this too.) Fry it up very crisp.  It will be fine in the soup.  Once fried, set that aside as well.  Drain the grease, but leave about a tablespoon in the bottom of the pan.  If you did this shit up right, there will be more scrapings on the bottom and that is good.  It's all about the flava. 
To the bacon grease, add a half of a large onion that has been chopped.  And add three cloves of minced garlic.  (No need for more… it’s just the hint of garlic.)  To this, add 7 medium sliced russet potatoes. (Why 7?  Sure 7 is a lucky number, but as the soup cooks, some of the potatoes will crumble and that will help thicken the soup.)  I used my mandolin and set it to ¼ inch slices.  Use russet potatoes as well.  I wanted to use Yukon gold, but they fall apart too easily.  Reds will do the same.  There's something about the texture.  You need tates that hold up.  Serious tates so that when and if there are leftovers, they stay in slices and don’t go to mush.  This also freezes well. 

Be careful using the mandolin, too.  Use the cutting guard and be sure to watch yourself.  You don’t want to slice the tip of your finger off.  That will  land you a trip to the ER and the whole soup making experience will be ruined.  I know a woman that messed up her pickles that way.   You don’t want to fuck up your soup.

Add the tates and two 32 oz boxes of chicken stock.  Add Salt and Pepper and three hard shakes of red pepper flakes.  This will give you a little zip, but won’t singe your tongue.  If you want it spicy-er, add two more shakes BUT DON’T USE SARACHA OR TABASCO. I love the stuff.  I do.  This heat tastes different.  Stick with the flakes.  It’s Italian.
Cook until the potatoes are tender.  The onions should be translucent by then as well.  This is about a good 30 to 45 minutes. Stir occasionally and the scrapings from the bottom will become loose and join the broth.  MMMMM…. Bacon scrapings.  Yep.  Tasty stuff.  Now you’re thinking, but there will be black flakes in my soup.  I use ground pepper.  There’s already flakes from that so why not the scrapings from the bottom of the pan.  DUH. 
While the soup is simmering it might be a serious chance to chill out, but wash up some kale and chop 2 cups into bite-sized pieces and then chill a bit.  Once the tates are tender, add the sausage, the bacon and the kale and cook for about 7-10 minutes.  The kale will remain a bit firm and it will be a gorgeous green.   Packer green, Emerald Green… lush green. 
After 10 minutes or so, turn the soup down and add a full cup – 8 oz – one little container of HEAVY WHIPPING CREAM.  Yes, I just said heavy whipping cream.  Half–n-half won’t cut it.  For you gluten free peeps… I know this is what thickens your soup without flour.  That and the starch from the tates. (Plus it tastes better without the flour or cornstarch.  You don’t want Gravy Toscana.  Ick.  Flour is great for a roux.  Not this soup).  Heat the soup all the way through, but don’t boil the shit out of it.  It will separate and that will be one gross looking soup.  (Big globs of white floating amongst meat and green stuff.  Not a good thing. Still tastes ok, but just the wrong look and consistency) 

Get out your big soup bowls and dish up.  You might want to add some fresh grated parmesan cheese or a bit more added fresh black pepper.  Or those of you that want more kick, a shake of pepper flakes to your bowl. 
I had a couple of slices of crusty French bread and you have your soup.  This glorious rich soup without having to go to the Olive Garden and listen to screaming kids or the server coming to your table every 5-7 minutes asking if you want more bread sticks.

And in the words of Makelmore:  THIS IS FUCKIN AWESOME!

 Olive Garden Zuppa Toscana Soup

 Ingredients

1 lb Italian Sausage (spicy if you prefer more heat)

5-7 slices of bacon (GO 7… it is bacon.  And I know you want bacon)

5-7 medium russet potatoes.  (go less if they are a larger medium, but 7 gives the right consistency)

2 c kale, chopped

1 c heavy whipping cream

(2) 32 oz cans /boxes of chicken broth

½ large onion

2-3 cloves of garlic, minced

2 tsp red pepper flakes

Salt and pepper

Sassy attitude

Favorite music in the background

           

Closing my eyes.

I saw the Tony award winning play "Metamorphoses" and just reread the script. It is 8 Greek myths that are intertwined. I had some mythology in college and mythology was a means to explain the reasons of life...most myths are tragic, but there are a few that are very happy stories, such as Eros and Psyche.
The myth goes like this:
Eros (Cupid) was the son of Aphrodite (Venus, goddess of love). Eros always wore a blindfold...true love is blind and the heart knows the soul. And He fell in love with a beautiful mortal named Psyche. Psyche means soul...
Psyche had 3 sisters that were very jealous of her and told her that Eros was a monster and because of that, Psyche couldn't bear to look at her handsome husband. In the meantime, her mother-in-law, Aphrodite, was jealous of the beauty of Psyche and that she was able to capture the heart of her only son. So she punished Psyche by giving her horrible tedious and often time intensive and very lonely tasks to do, such as sorting out very tiny seeds from each other that are in great huge piles.
But as in every good fairytale, Psyche is loved and adored by many, including the animal kingdom, so the littlest of animals and insects help her with these drudges that Aphrodite gives her, so that she can be with the man she loves. (I swear Walt Disney stole this one)
Psyche has many fears and is always watching out for everything. Psyche also desires to see her husband. So by candlelight, she enters their bedroom just to look. As she gazes adoringly and lustily at her handsome husband, she accidentally lets some candle wax fall on his shoulder burning and waking her husband from a deep sleep. He is startled and howls in pain and she flees in fear of him, believing that he is the monster that her sisters have led her to believe.
Finally...Zeus, watches all of this and knows all that has taken place. He watches Psyche go through her days in fear and guardedness and says ENOUGH IS ENOUGH already!!! He sees that the two of them love each other so very much. So, he makes Psyche an immortal ( which angers Aphrodite royally and pisses off the sisters)and grants that the love of Eros and Psyche live on forever. Psyche then goes back into the darkened room where her beloved is and wakes him. And they begin their forever...
The moral - to quote the play:

"It's just inevitable the Soul wanders in the dark, until it finds love. And so, wherever our love goes... there, we find our soul.
It always happens - if we are lucky. And if we let ourselves be blind instead of always watching out."

Maybe, I should be closing my eyes a little more.

If serenity was only this easy...

I saw this while driving down the street in Los Angeles. Only in LA.... I had to take the pic. I knew it would be needed or as a point of reference sometime...

Now is the time.
When things get crazy and too chaotic and one knows that they can't control anything...it's a comforting thought that you can carry a bit of the Buddha with you.
"Stay in the Moment"
"Be Here Now"

"Peace is in Every Step"

Sometimes Buddha is in your pocket
Sometimes Buddha is on your mantle

Always in your heart...
And for some, they have Buddha in the back of their pickup truck.

So with that being said...It's spring. New Beginnings for everyone and I wish all of you Peace.

Classic Post from back in the day

I did a little reminiscing... and found this post from June of 2009  TOO FUNNY
But when I lived in retail hell, there were glimmering moments of sheer joy and too good to be true amazingness.  This was one of those moments.

WALKING THE MALL...

So I'm walking down the mall...and I hear squealing. Not a real biggie due to the fact there's a super new cool playland for the kids.
No, these were ADULT WOMEN squealing.
And at what I didn't know. I just walked past them and walked past a guy, not much taller than I, tanner than a new pair of shoes and in a baseball cap. Kinda good lookin and a nice ass.
I look at him, smile and keep on going to my sister store. (I'm on a mission to buy a dress...and one on sale at that!)

I stop on my way to say "Hey Cowboy" to my friend, Ramiro at the Western Store . I'm outside the store and still in the mall and the baseball capped man walks past me, thinking I was talking to him, and with a bit of an accent, said "Hey right back" and winked.
DAMN I am so glad that I wore my cute yoga/gauchos and tight top that looks mighty cute and positively accentuates my ass and tits according to my girly, Jillian.
Ramiro walks to the front of the store, gives me a hug, tells me "you look good girl" (yes, the cowboy fetish has turned into a career) and said, DO YOU KNOW WHO THAT WAS THAT WINKED AT YOU?

Me, dumbfounded and gleeful that a pretty attractive guy said HEY back, said "Um, No.
Ramiro said - That was Kenny Chesney, Girl. He thought you were saying Hey to him and not me. Good for you.
I said "What the Hell would Kenny Chesney be doing at the mall in Eau Claire?"
And then I realized it was Country Fest and maybe the guy needed a new cap, shirt or something you can find at the mall.
Then I said, Shit, why isn't he buying a new pair of boots from you. I'd keep him entertained while you helped him with his boots.
And then he walked in the store.
HOLY BRIDGET JONES MOMENT

Face to face with the guy that married the woman that played my alterego.

I hugged Ramiro and told him to "Go sell, Darlin. I'm off to buy me a new dress" and then winked at Mr Chesney and smiled at his bodyguard. I can't be near musicians of any sort. They are my kryptonite. (Yes, Mark, I left the store. I can proudly still wear a "Bastard Musicians" tee)
Now, I hear he can be nice and also that he can be an ass. But Renee Ziellwiger nicknamed him "the horse".

I don't know much about country music anymore and I really don't listen. (ALT - Country is a WHOLE different thing - Yeah WILCO!) but they say...Save a horse, ride a cowboy.

When the pieces are scattered...

I'm sitting here and I'm thinking about so many people in my life and how they have made me who I am today.  I am so very very lucky.  So many things have happened in the last 9 months and so many new things and changes will be happening ahead.  I'm still standing and intend to be when the smoke and air have cleared... so to speak.  One's sanity and mortality make one take a hard look at things.
I wake up every morning fresh and new and full of new realizations.  What's real.  What isn't.  Who matters.  Who doesn't.  What matters and what doesn't .   Gradually each day you get more answers to those questions and one morning you wake up and it just is.

I had a chance to watch a rerun of Grey's Anatomy and  it struck a nerve.  Callie has to inform a man, a cad, that his girl friend was dead.  His girlfriend loved him so much that she dieted and conditioned herself so hard and quickly that she died. She felt that she needed to look a certain way for him and be a beautiful woman for him.   She gave up herself ... her spirit, her identity and lost her life... for a man she loved.  And Callie says this:

You didn't love her! You just didn't want to be alone. Or maybe, maybe she was good for your ego. Or, or maybe she made you feel better about your miserable life, but you didn't love her, because you don't destroy the person that you love!

How much are we willing to sacrifice for "love"?  How much are we willing to compromise? How much are we willing to accept of another person? How long does it take to realize that a relationship was truly one sided and that you suddenly feel foolish for giving your time and love to a man that never intended to love you back?  How much are you willing to face and realize?

I draw from my own past experiences and the experiences of other women when I pose those questions.  We all ask those fundamental questions when faced to make a decision of what really is real and important.

And as I pose those questions... it reminds me of a song.  Here's one for the women that have huge hearts.

And I wish her insight to battle love's blindness
Strength from the milk of human kindness
A safe place for all the pieces that scattered
Learn to pretend there's more than love that matters
http://youtu.be/uFd8B3vcty4

Shining!

  I intend to explore all kinds of ways to shine my light.

and hope to believe and realize how bright I do shine.


That would be my gift to myself.

Awesome sauce!

I had the amazing experience of being a performer in THE VAGINA MONOLOGUES.  It was a liberating and wonderful experience.  The audiences were amazing.  They were engaged and respectful and involved.  There was no fourth wall with this show and it was a treat being able to interact with the audience with my monologues and even more of an experience.  It was more than a blast to deliver straight to the audience if you were having a conversation with them.  WOW.
In the whole process, I have gained the friendship of a cast of wonderful women.  I am blessed to have an amazing director that has become a wonderful friend.  She's a kindred spirit of sorts and I have gained a true friend with my dearest N.  I hope to collaborate with her on more projects but to also have fun and adventure in the process.

The Vagina Monologues have been life changing for many women.  It fell into my lap right when I needed to use my voice.  It is pretty easy for me to sing a song and tell a story through a classic song.  But it has been a very long time since I spoke on stage.  I have done it, but not in a very long time.  I thought that this would be more than a wonderful way to speak again.  Plus, I haven't been able to be an advocate for women in a very long time and my inner GRRRLL felt like it needed to come out.
I was chosen to do two monologues and the group readings.  The first, MY ANGRY VAGINA, was the one that I wanted to interpret.
 http://vaginamonologues.missouri.edu/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/My-Angry-Vagina.pdf
It's well written and takes the audience on a ride. I took it to a new place.  Some actresses have kept the anger all the way to the end.  As for me, I took the audience down with me to let them see even though I am angry, I am still a sensitive woman.
In fact, I always break down in the same place.  I talk about the monologue and the end and I get emotional just talking about the ending.  I made it very much mine.
The other was called RECLAIMING CUNT.
YEP, I went there.
But instead of making it seem like a rah rah cheer and feminist rally cry, I made it lyrical as if I were singing a song.
But I got this wonderful card from my friend, N.
and in it I'd like to share what she said...
And wow! What courage you brought to this production!  You not only stepped out of your comfort zone, but you threw yourself!  So beautiful and inspiring.   The pure, raw honesty that you brought to MY ANGRY VAGINA and RECLAIMING CUNT shine through with the power of the sun and radiate all over with your touch.  Its a glow of humanness in all its gritty masterful and candid glory. People don't have a choice but to connect with you.  Amazing and so powerful!

I went out of my zone, but I knew that I needed to speak for women.  Women who thought all of these things in their heads but didn't ever dare speak them out loud.
I keep hearing and people tell me I shine... and I am finally believing it.
and than you my dear friend, N.... here's to the future!

Vaporizing or How Social Media, or Trying to be Private on it, Bit Me in the Ass.

Ok… I was in a relationship.  Yes, I was. I didn't proclaim it all over the world, but people knew.  And the break up has given me every quintessential Carrie Bradshaw moment I have needed to let me know that this isn’t about me.  It is but it isn’t.

I have gotten burned by putting relationship statuses on social media.  It allowed too many people to chime in or get involved or just plain butt in.  So I vowed to only let the people that need to know … know.  Granted, the first postings on how happy I was and on being in a relationship garnered kudos and well wishes… then you get the questions and the “timelines” of holidays and expectations.   Being a girl, you have enough going on in your head.  You don’t need to have armchair coaching on your relationship.

So this time, I didn’t blaze it on social media. 

And it felt like a good decision.  It was like I was in our own little cocoon.  Family and friends knew.  Now, I was and am proud of my former partner.  He is successful at what he does and makes a difference in the lives of others.  I enjoyed our company and loved the time we spent alone and out and about.

It was the first time in a long time that I let down most of my walls.  YES! This man did this.  It took some wooing on his part to have me date him, but once I got to know him I knew that he was a good man. 
This good man was very kind to me.  Shared my successes, watched me be sick, saw my crazy times with being temporarily placed in jobs, dealt with the superficial crap and listened to me. And I did the same.    And after time, I shared some of the life defining moments I’ve had with him.  The stuff that I still have some shame/guilt about.  I trusted him.  I felt safe and comfortable. 
And like all relationships, I thought about the “what ifs” and maybes.  Good friends shared job postings in his area that I contemplated on.  I thought about looking for an all wheel drive vehicle due to the drive and conditions.  I thought about transitioning to a place I wanted to go back to and knowing that I wouldn’t be all alone in doing it. 
After being so adamant about being alone and independent, “Miss I’m not getting very involved with Anyone” suddenly was very involved with someone special.

Holidays were shared and came around and I also was pretty open about being with this man and making a life with him.  I posted little references about someone special, or a quote about a relationship or pictures of flowers.  Or a song or two… those that knew that we were together knew what it was all about.
Then my instincts were telling me a whole different story.  The distance was starting to wear on me and I knew I needed to spend more time with him.  I also sensed he was drifting away.  He assures me he wasn’t, but he was. 

So I finally had to ask… what’s happening with us?

And the very next day… a minute after I got off of work, an email showed up in my inbox.  Carrie Bradshaw got dumped with a post-it note.  I got dumped by an email.

He had suddenly found someone else and had fallen in love.  He loved me but wasn’t in love with me.  He thought he would never find love again and that he was willing to be with me because I was good to him and kind and we had a good time together.  

Basically… he was willing to settle.  With me. 

My world went all pear shaped and I was numb.

Four days later… I vaporized.  I took the high road and remained friends in all ways possible with out being in each other’s presence.  I do wish him happiness.  And I am glad that he found love.  Really I am.

How I vaporized… he posted he was in a relationship on social media.  And I saw the reactions.  They all said it was about time and they were happy.  I sat in shock and the realization that I was nothing but a person in the background became a reality.  It was as if I didn’t ever exist.  I was vaporized.  I was nothing. It was then I realized that NO ONE knew about ME except his family and some acquaintances.  It was very easy to transition this new love into his life because no one really knew about me and I don’t think she even knew he was seeing someone when they began talking.  And I can see the attraction… someone closer, someone that has a hair color that he is more inclined to be attracted to, and someone new.

Time has passed.  Some things remind me of the relationship.  There are songs that I get the feeling that I’m going to have an anxiety attack while listening to them.  I beat myself up a little when I think about the whole thing sometimes.   

But I’m now finally feeling like I can move on from it all.  I’m letting people in again, but the trust will take a long time for me to let someone… anyone like that in again. It’s a rebuilding.  I didn’t deserve an email.  I deserved a call or better yet, a face-to-face goodbye.  I thought I was more than an email.  I didn’t deserve that kind of let down.

Yes, I’ve aired some dirty laundry.  I could have said more.  A lot more.  There are things that I will only share with individuals or keep to myself. 

I am hurt.  Time has passed, but to be treated like a non-entity is something I never imagined.  To be replaced and have someone pick up right where I left off is something I have never experienced.  I thought I was more than that.  But he chose his  happiness and being in love over anything with me and needed to be honest with about that.   That meant me ... gone.  Vaporized.

But just maybe… maybe there might be something that reminds him of me and he will think of me fondly and remember that he had someone who truly loved him… flaws and all.