Sometimes you feel like a nut...

As promised here is the granola. It's easy to make, you'll love it. Just be careful and don't let it bake too long, or you'll have a big burned mess on your hands. (One day I'll tell you about the 2 lbs of pecans I turned into little pieces of ash!)

Nutty Granola courtesy of dew-faced Ellie Krieger, from the book The Food You Crave. Unfortunately, I crave most foods, not just the healthy ones.

Cooking spray
3 cups old fashioned rollled oats
1/2 cup of each - chopped walnuts, almonds, pecans
1/2 cup of pure maple syrup (not the fake kind. fake = unhealthy!)
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 cup raisins (optional, I added dried cranberries - delicious)

Preheat oven to 300. Coat a large baking sheet with cooking spray.
In a medium bowl, mix together all ingredients, making sure to coat everything well with the maple syrup. Spread on the baking sheet and bake until golden brown, stirring occasionally for 30 minutes.
Transfer the sheet to a wire rack and let cool. You can store it in the refrigerator in an airtight container for three weeks.

I have it with milk, over greek yogurt with honey or I simply snack on it dry, right out of that airtight container. In any case, it certainly doesn't last in my apartment for three weeks.

I hope you'll try it. Then can see how long it last in your fridge. Delcious!

State of the Kitchen Address...

I came home tonight to give my cupboards a speech...even if no kitchen consituents were listening. I took inventory, threw out two year old items and vowed to take back the ingredients. I made a promise to use them all this fiscal year, before another dinner plan goes bad.

I had every intention of blogging today...but work was very busy and then I had to run errands after work...which always leaves me grouchy. I was hoping I'd get home on the early side, so I could take the time to cook a delicious savory dinner but it was late. Plus my creative culinary juices were definately not flowing. When I get home late from work, my evening meals are far from interesting. They easily border on boring. Perhaps I am compensating for the ridiculous rich dinners we serve at school that I can't stay away from.

I did however manage to make a batch homemade granola. The granola is still in the oven, but whiffs of it are sneaking out and filling the apartment. The smell is toasty and warm, actually cozy. I promise tomorrow, I'll share a picture and the recipe. It's delicious and easy to make, thank you Ellie Krieger, that healthy food Goddess with the gorgeous skin. What is her secret? I want it, whatever it is. It couldn't just be all that healthy eating could it? No, it must be good genes.

Tonight, I was severly tempted to just laze on the couch and get super comfy. Forget dinner and the fragrant granola. My delicious step didnt take me far tonight, just to the cupboard for a little ransacking but I was so glad I did. A quick, simple pork chop, veggie dinner and then granola for future breakfasts. Sometimes that little bit of effort is so worth it. There is nothing like homemade. As President Obama said, at the end of his State of the Union Address, I didn't give up and I didn't quit!
(overly dramatic, I know)

B - B - B - Billy and the Jets...

Good news, bad news.

It’s always tough to decide which news to give first but I have made a decision. The good news has to come first because the bad news...well, it’s just not that bad. Just don't tell my husband I said that.

First, Billy Elliot. Today I went to see the Broadway show of the same name with my friend Joanne and it was absolutely wonderful. The musical centers on a young English lad, Billy Elliot. His mother has recently died and Billy is struggling with the loss while being raised by his father, elderly grandmother and older brother. It's the tale of their personal struggles, past and present. It’s also the story of a small Northern English community living through the strife caused by the coal miner’s strike that started in 1984, while Margaret Thatcher was Prime Minister. Times are very tough but Billy finds a second home and new purpose in a local dance studio. The dancing is brilliant. The best part was seeing the sheer joy on the face of the young actor playing Billy Elliot as he danced beautifully through the show. He dances with such a huge smile on his face, that it brought tears to my eyes. At intermission, Joanne had asked me how a young kid like that knows he wants to dance on Broadway. In the second half of the show, when I saw the face of that young man, dancing his heart out, I thought, he doesn't have to know or second guess...it’s simply in his heart. It was wonderful and inspiring. And it made me want to dance as well. Not in the literal sense. I just want to have a smile on my face like that kid on the stage. That smile comes from the sheer joy of doing what you love. I think in life, everyone wants to smile like that.

The flip side of good news, unfortunately is bad news. Ah, the New York Jets. They lost their championship game tonight, which is indeed a shame, certainly no joy or large smiles in this household. I tell my husband they have a rookie quarterback and a new coach, but it’s no consolation. My poor darling is devastated. A long suffering Jets fan, he was truly hoping for a trip to the Super Bowl. It's not to be.

So tonight I deal with my own suffering Billy Elliot. A sad soul dear Dan is, wishing that things had been different. A touchdown pass caught, a first down made. Jet fans did fare much better than the coal miners in Billy Elliot. They lost their strike and were defeated. It was a devastating loss, they never recovered. Certainly no Super Bowl for them. With the Jets, at least we have next year, another chance. And with baseball around the corner, my Billy will soon have another reason to smile.

Blame it on Rio

I have it blame it on something for heavens sake. It has been a month since I started my countdown blog. Actually, that’s not exactly true, it’s been longer than a month. But not by much… really just a couple of days…okay more than a couple…six to be exact. There, full disclosure! So far I have been terrible at orchestrating my own personal before and after makeover. Ugh. Who knew that blogging and self improvement could be so difficult? I give that blogger chick Julie a ton of credit. The energizer bunny has nothing on her. I wanted to blog everyday but that hasn’t happened. I am close to everyday but don’t they say close only counts in horseshoes? I will be more diligent and delicious with my posts. Other goals go as follows…

Weight…embarrassingly enough I have gained two pounds! Ouch, that one hurts. Even after stripping down to my birthday suit and standing on the cold glass scale ten times in ten different positions while holding my breath in, the ugly truth stares back at me. In big black lit up digital numbers too. No fudging with an old fashioned needle teetering back and forth like a metronome while you shift your weight around. Those numbers seem so BIG first thing in the morning. Perhaps it has something to do with the crispy bacon lardons at school or with the next item…

Exercise…nil. I really need to work on this! Spring will be here before you know it. It's not like I want to run around the beach in a teeny bikini like Valerie Bertinelli, God bless her, but perhaps it would be nice if my biceps could see a little sunlight this summer. I bought a workout DVD for home. It came with pretty hot pink girly dumbbells. I better get that going. These biceps need a lot of help pre springtime unveiling.

As for my other goals, I did buy a French word of the day calendar. The words have been easy– like la banane and le sac, duh? However, I feel very frenchy French already and certainly almost bilingual. I am working up to something difficult, like a sentence. La banana est dans le sac. See what I have learned? Beautiful that French language is.

This coming month I am going to think positive, work hard and not sweat the small stuff too much. Remember what our dear French friend Doris Day said – que sera sera!

Cake Love

There is something so nice about cake. Cake conjours up so many happy memories...Birthday cakes as a little kid in grade school when you only ate the icing with a glass of chilled milk, sheet cakes filled with rich thick frosting at a church or school event, because there was simply too many people to feed for a beautiful 9” round cake, little individual cakes, the ever popular cupcake, that was yours to eat any way you wanted to. There are also momentous cakes – wedding cakes, anniversary cakes, graduation cakes to always mark an occasion. Perhaps I'll have a big beautiful delicious cake when I graduate next month. We will photograph it and remember it and its special significant place at the party.

Tonight though, after a busy weekend and a little too much indulgence, (I blame the Jets win for that!) I decided to rely on an old favorite, my lemon olive oil cake. It doesn't get to hide behind chocolate batter or fancy whimsical frosting and design. Instead it stands on its on, slightly rich from the eggs, slightly sweet from the sugar and deeply flavorful from the olive oil. It's easy to make and easier to eat.

And tomorrow, when I have to return to work, it will make that first cup of coffee from the office kitchen, just that much easier to take.

Lemon Olive Oil Cake from Gourmet Magazine

Ingredients:
¾ cup olive oil
1 large lemon
1 cup cake flour (not self rising)
5 large eggs, separated, reserve 1 of the egg whites for another use
½ teaspoon salt
¾ cup plus 1 ½ tablespoons sugar

One 9-inch springform pan

Preparation:

• Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 350F.
• Grease springform pan with oil
• Finely grate enough lemon zest to measure 1 ½ teaspoons and whisk together with flour. (I usually just use all the zest – why not?)
• Halve the lemon, squeeze and reserve 1 ½ tablespoons of juice
• Beat together egg yolks with ½ cup sugar in large bowl with electric mixer on high speed until thick and a beautiful pale yellow – about 3 minutes
• Reduce speed to medium and add olive oil and reserved lemon juice, beating until just combined. The mixture might look like its going south on you, but it will be fine.
• Using a wooden spoon, add flour mixture until just combined
• Beat 4 egg whites with ½ teaspoon salt in another large bowl, until foamy, then add ¼ cup sugar a little at a time, beating until whites hold soft peaks, about 3 minutes.
• Gently fold ½ of egg whites into yolk mixture to lighten, then fold in remaining egg whites gently but thoroughly
• Transfer batter to springform pan, gently tap against work surface once or twice to release air bubbles.
• Sprinkle top with remaining sugar.
• Bake until puffed and golden, and a skewer inserted into center of cake comes out clean, about 40 minutes.
• Cool cake in pan on a rack until able to remove cake from pan without burning your finger tips!
• Let cool to room temperature, be patient, resort to self control.
• Transfer to a serving platter (if you wish) then eat and enjoy!

Voila - delicious!

Level six has officially begun and the station I am working at is called Saucier. Don't you love that name - it sounds so sexy and fun! Believe me its not. It's hot and dangerous! Damn...that sounds kind of naughty too. What I mean to say is this is a busy, nerve racking station where we grill the hangar steak and sauté the pheasants. The pans are smoking hot with sputtering oil and the oven is set cranked up to 500 scorching degrees, dangerous for someone who is less than graceful, which is me. Last Tuesday night I managed to escape with only a few burnt fingertips. I love the plates though so I thought I'd share them with you - please see pictures taken from my trusty mobile phone.

The hangar steak comes with a delicious decadent bordelaise sauce accompanied by a brussel sprout slaw and pommes dauphines. The pommes (potato) dish taste like fancy pants tater tots, for those of you who grew up with them. They are the same shape and have a crisp salty crust with a creamy, fluffy center. I could eat 100 of them, especially right out of the deep fry. I make eight per dish. As you can see from the picture five make it on the plate. Trust me, the other three didn’t just roll off the counter...

The other dish is sautéed pheasant with a delicious mousseline under the skin, and a parsnip puree. If you like to sneak a bite of skin off the turkey on Thanksgiving day while people tell you that's disgusting and unhealthy for you, the pheasant will be right up your alley. That skin is divine.

These will be two of the dishes that we might have to prepare for our final exam next month. But the thought of that final gives me a stomach ache…so for now, I’ll just not think about it. Instead, I’ll just enjoy the dishes for what they are, mouth-watering and delicious.

Patience is a virtue...

Last night I got home from work at the uncivilized hour of 8pm. Way too late for a Monday night, or any other night if you ask me. Dan and I had an easy, no frills dinner. After our quick nosh, Dan turned on the television to catch up on the latest New York Jets talk, prep for the big football game this weekend. Then Mark McGuire’s steroid confession came on. And on and on and on! These teary eyed confessions really are too much. After watching his mea culpa several times in the span of a few minutes, I had heard enough. Watching grown men cry over stupid decisions they have made, just doesn’t do it for me.

I decided to get off the couch and do something more constructive than grumble about pro athletes. How about taking the time to try and learn how to use my nifty little camera? Every time I try and take a picture inside the apartment of something up close – its way too bright. The object of my focus looks like a shiny illuminated UFO hurling through space. Not anything like the pretty pictures I see on other blogs. How hard could it be to change that? My camera is of the “aim and shoot” variety. After trying to understand its many buttons and screen directions, I ended up cursing and screaming at that little piece of light blue metal. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to “aim and shoot” it or myself! It’s amazing how something so small can cause such annoyance. It’s like the TV remote for the cable channels when you hit the wrong button. Instead of another channel appearing on the TV, you are in no mans land. You may be just one button away from the right one, but hours away from figuring out what you did wrong. I’ll never call an 800 number for help either. I just suffer until I figure it out, which for me is never easy. Last night I didn’t have hours and I was too tired to fight. I decide instead, to calmly put the camera down, step away and pick up the fight again later. I’ll try again when I am not so riled up.

Hopefully next time you stop to read this blog, (please, oh please!) I’ll have worked it all out and there will be beautiful clear pictures to accompany my words. An enticement per se. Until then, thanks for listening.

Where everyone knows your name...

This afternoon as I head off to school, Dan will be heading out with me. That's a good thing, because believe it or not, I have the jitters again. Tonight is the first night of Level 6, the last level at school. This is the big time, the last act, the stepping up to the majors. Dan is good at reassuring me that all will be fine. It's really not too much different than level 5, I guess I just like to be dramatic about the whole thing.

Dan will not be walking with me long. He and I will part ways at the corner of Vernon and 50th in Long Island City, in that lovely borough of Queens. I'll head down the dusty, dirty stairs to the subway and he'll make a quick right, into Leahy's, our corner bar. And I mean that literally, it's right there on the corner. He usually doesn't arrive there at 4:00pm on a Saturday but today is the New York Jet's wild card playoff game, so he is watching with our new friends at the bar. Everyone should have a corner bar to patronize. In most places, it's a thing of the past, like family dinners and Sunday drives. We aren't every night regulars, but the place definately has them, a bunch of characters, of every age and walk of life. Francess, the bartender, hails from Northern Ireland, from County Armagh, and she truly is the draw. We first met her a year or so ago, and she alone was the reason we started to stop by for a drink. Her warmth and humor could draw in a crowd of antisocials.

We usually go two nights a week, when we know Francess is working. One of those nights is always Saturday night. Dan and I meet there after I am done with school. Dan would wait for me outside, lingering on the corner, resisting the urge to retreat into the cool safety of the airconditioned bar. Now that old man winter has arrived in full force, he waits inside. When I walk in the door, Francess yells "Hello dear Bridget" across the crowded room and then shouts out a number. The number represents how many more Saturday nights I have of school left. We started at 24. The number is now down to 7! Francess recently confessed to me she isn't so fond of the countdown calendar. She is worried when it's 3 - 2 - 1 done, that it will be the end of our weekend ritual. I told her not to worry, that she and the fun loving "family" we have there are the true ritual. They're an interesting diverse group, these new friends. They have made for Danny and I, who are recent transplants to this small concrete spot in the world, a true sense of neigborhood. When we see each other walking on the street or in the subway, its a quick hello. At the bar, we get to catch up on the week in more detail, sometimes hilarious detail. Love lives, jobs, recent travels and family are all discussed. We also wonder where someone is when they don't show up. Dan and I have met parents, sisters, and friends. It's a nice sense of community. In a place as big and crazy as the five boroughs of New York, it's great to have your own spot.

Next step – Level 6!

Tonight is the last night of Level 5 at the French Culinary Institute where I attend school. That means I am officially in the home stretch! I can’t believe it, where did the past nine months go? I seemed to have survived so far, even though there were times of fear and doubt. Even a few tears, God how embarrassing.

Yesterday my boss asked me (for the 10th time mind you) “When do you graduate?” I told him next month and his reply was “then what happens.” I told him you get a diploma, a toque placed on your head, a glass of champagne and then call it a day. “But what does that mean for you” he asked. I stared back at him and thought to myself “I really don’t know” but actually replied “I get to check cooking school off my to-do list”. I don’t think that’s quite what he expected, because he looked at me quizzically, turned around, went into his office and shut the door. I am afraid my boss doesn’t understand me. Hell, I don’t even understand me.

It did get me thinking…what am I going to do? That damn clock on my blog is ticking, ticking, ticking. I feel like Marisa Tomei in the movie My Cousin Vinny…”my biological clock is ticking, ticking, ticking”…although trust me, it’s not my biological clock that concerns me. My concern is that I don’t dilly dally around anymore thinking I have all this time to figure out the big question of where I want my life to go. School is a great thing because there are plenty of connections to be had. I’ll start there. When I was 30 I was the oldest living intern at NBC. I was answering the phones in the complaint department. Yes, they actually had a complaint department. Believe me, when you cut into a soap opera with a special news report, people complain. And if Michael Jackson were still alive, I’d tell him that nobody liked it when you grabbed your crouch while singing at the Super Bowl. The calls flooded in. I can still see the lines lit up, blinking, waiting for me. People don’t hang up when they want to bitch about something. However that job later led to some amazing experiences outside NBC’s complaint department. After the panic of the mad blinking phone bank, I felt I could handle anything.

I keep hearing and reading that you have to be open to change. That change occurs when you are ready for it. When I graduate next month, I’ll be one step closer to being ready. I say, change, bring it on.

Busy, busy, busy...

Let me tell you, the life of an executive assistant isn't as glamorous as it sounds! Ha! Today was phone calls, calendars, meetings and a few nutcases on the phone, leftovers from the holiday season. (that does not include the ones still here at work)
Not much time to blog before I have leave work for my downtown culinary school. I am headed out into the artic blast which has decided to linger over the East coast for the next week. The ten day forecast is easy to memorize: freezing.
As an update, I walked the stairs last night, took down the Christmas tree, made dinner and remembered to call my dear friend Christine for her Birthday. Quite good for a Monday night, especially the part about the tree. Dan and I did get into a little tangle with the tree stand...unfortunately the stand won. It too is now on the curb, still attached to the tree, waiting to be picked up. I am sure the tree recycling police would have us immediately arrested if they could pin the crime on the two of us. Leaving the stand behind I can be certain wasn't acceptable recycling...but it was so cold outside and the damn thing would not let go of the tree! The tree actually looked rather nice standing tall on the sidewalk. Instead of lying down like the rest of them, it stood proud.
Well, off to school! Wish me luck with my gnocchi!

The party's over...

Today it was back to the office. Nothing helps reality set in about returning to work then an early ride on the 7 train with a thousand other happy straphangers all bundled up, ready to brace the wintry weather. New Yorkers really know how to layer it on, like they are getting ready to summit a mountain. Perhaps my fellow commuters were just excited about wearing all their pretty new gifts because every bit of outerwear one could think of was on display this morning. Unfortunately the subway car I jumped into felt like the inside of furnace. Trying to remove any garment in a jam-packed subway car is no simple feat, it would be easier to play a game of twister. The guy directly in front of me had a backpack on the size of a steamer trunk. But since it’s behind him, he can’t see it, so it’s not really there. Noooo, it’s not there taking up precious space. The girl next to me was traveling with bags of varying sizes. Three bags to be precise - immense, bulky, and the where-the-hell-are-you-going-with-that-huge sized bag - flung over her shoulders. Excuse me there darling sherpa girl, those overstuffed bags aren’t holograms, they actually are knocking me in the back every time the subway lurches. At least there wasn’t a full set of golf clubs swinging around that 7 train. (True story) It’s impossible to try to even loosen a coat button or unfurl a scarf when things have reached the sardine can factor. I did manage to yank my $5 Elmer Fudd hat off. What a find! Those fake fur nylon hats that you buy off the street corner are surprisingly warm. I was sweating by the time I spilled out and headed to the office. Fortunately, my day went by fairly quickly and without too much drama. I tried my best to cheerfully answer the phone and wish my co-workers a Happy New Year. Of course, there were the self importants who didn’t think it necessary to reciprocate my pleasant salutation but I am not going to let them bother me. The first cut is the deepest…tomorrow, it’s already Tuesday! Tonight I am going to start on my list in earnest. Take the stairs, not the escalator on my commute home, make a few phone calls, cook a healthy dinner and decide which book to read. I am on my way!

The holidays have melted away...

and so here I sit at my little shabby chic desk (more shabby than chic, trust me) in my cozy apartment on a bitter cold New York City day, thinking about the fact that it's actually 2010. January has arrived, even if I was secretly hoping it wouldn't. New Years Eve was a wonderful anniversary celebration, fun and memorable! Dinner was a decadent, delicious trip to a steakhouse, proceeded by Dan and I ringing in 2010 with a icy cold glass of bubbly champagne. However, since Friday, with the festivities behind us, I have attempted to prolong the New Year's arrival by being horribly lazy and putting off my To Do list. But the Irish guilt is starting to settle in. The countdown clock which I added to my blog over Christmas is starting to unnerve me. Hell, the damn countdown clock actually counts! When I see those minutes slipping away, never to return, I get a little anxious. Now that it's already Sunday, January 3rd, I am getting a little panicky. So I prolong no more. I have an official short list to get me started. I kept changing my To Do list...which isn't a good sign for my future success at all. I must be committed! One really can't procrastinate about procrastinating, can they? Therefore, here it goes, the list. By writing something down and sharing it with you, I am hoping that as Anderson Cooper and my know-it-all sister Kathy just kindly reminded me, I'll be "keeping it honest".

My TO DO list - 2010

1. Blog - it's something you should do every day, which will help me with my lack of discipline.
2. Exercise - in some fashion, at least 5 times a week so it becomes habit (Yikes!)
3. Lose weight - which hopefully, once #2 comes into play, won't be so difficult.
4. Keep in much better touch with my family and friends, learn to love the phone!
5. Volunteer with an organization that I believe in, knowing that one person can truly make a difference.
6. Learn conversational French. For once I'd like to get past "I'll have a glass of wine, merci beaucoup!".
7. Graduate from the French Culinary Institute (sorry, I know, a cheater, sure thing "to do")
8. Find a new job so that when Sunday night rolls around, I am not sitting on the couch thinking I need to find a new job.
9. Travel - to learn, explore and walk those delicious steps.
10. Visit a museum once a month. Please I live in NYC - that can't be hard.
11.Adopt a pet - wherever I might be living. (I am sorry, I am no Angelina Jolie - Sparky is going to have to do)

That's the start of my list. I'll add to it as I see fit, I promise. One addition is I do want to finally read all the books that are tucked away in numerous locations in my apartment. Until then, to "keep me honest", I will not allow myself to buy my beloved treasured Kindle. That seems like the wise thing a 49 year old woman would do. So, at last count, I have roughly 47 unread books lounging about, feeling ignored. Conservatively speaking, by reading one a week, I'll be buying that Kindle just in time for my 50th Birthday...how funny and apropos is that?