I decided to take on the task of boning a duck. It was actually easy. You must have the proper instructions, a very sharp knife, patience, and of course, excellent knife skills. I possess all of these things. The interesting part was stuffing, sewing, trussing and wrapping the damn thing in pasrty crust. That being said, I succeeded.
I hope it tastes as good as it looks. I know it will.
Cheers.
LMS
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Nothing of worth.
I will not make an entry unless there is something of worth to make an entry about.
But I will make an entry to keep up with making entries so I keep entertaining you.
Cheers.
LMS
But I will make an entry to keep up with making entries so I keep entertaining you.
Cheers.
LMS
Friday, January 7, 2011
One of my favorite topics.
On the precipice of attending a wake for a friend and Caballero, I find myself thinking about one of my favorite topics: Death.
Everyone has a different opinion about what happens to us after we die, and I suppose I'm not any different. I feel that there is irrefutable evidence from the paranormal arena that suggests the presence of ghosts and "lost souls" trapped in limbo. I've personally felt at times that I was not alone in a room, knowing full well I was the only person in the house. I believe that my maternal Grandfather is always watching out for me. I suppose, simply, it is because I want to believe he is.
I think as human beings we have a fear of the unknown, a sense of feeling lost, being disconnected, and alone. Like searching for alien life, death is no different in that we want to know we're not going through all of this alone. Why do people have to get old, sick, and ultimately die? I know death is a part of life, a journey we all must take, as Gandalf says, but it can still be a mind fuck of epic proportions.
A human life in length is infinitesimal in the scheme of things as it is, now add cancer, irresponsible drivers, murderers, catastrophic events, heart attacks, etrc. and that life expectancy drops considerably. I have a great Aunt that recently celebrated her 98th birthday. She's never been married, never had children, I'm absolutely certain she has never been with a man, or woman for that matter, and she is well taken care of in an assisted living facility on Staten Island, and she doesn't have to pay a dime to live there. The irony? All she does is complain about everything from the food to the staff to her dining tablemates, and that her feet hurt. She is still sharp as a tack and misses nothing. Boggles my mind.
I've had a thought over the years that might not make sense to anyone, but it makes perfect sense to me:
If we cannot remember being born, how can we remember dying?
Cheers.
LMS
PS- RIP Jack Kotran, you will be missed my great friend. I know you're up there with your bottle of yellow Gatorade, spiked with Absolute and a bucket of Tootsie Pops ready to cheer on your Caballeros in 2011. =D
Everyone has a different opinion about what happens to us after we die, and I suppose I'm not any different. I feel that there is irrefutable evidence from the paranormal arena that suggests the presence of ghosts and "lost souls" trapped in limbo. I've personally felt at times that I was not alone in a room, knowing full well I was the only person in the house. I believe that my maternal Grandfather is always watching out for me. I suppose, simply, it is because I want to believe he is.
I think as human beings we have a fear of the unknown, a sense of feeling lost, being disconnected, and alone. Like searching for alien life, death is no different in that we want to know we're not going through all of this alone. Why do people have to get old, sick, and ultimately die? I know death is a part of life, a journey we all must take, as Gandalf says, but it can still be a mind fuck of epic proportions.
A human life in length is infinitesimal in the scheme of things as it is, now add cancer, irresponsible drivers, murderers, catastrophic events, heart attacks, etrc. and that life expectancy drops considerably. I have a great Aunt that recently celebrated her 98th birthday. She's never been married, never had children, I'm absolutely certain she has never been with a man, or woman for that matter, and she is well taken care of in an assisted living facility on Staten Island, and she doesn't have to pay a dime to live there. The irony? All she does is complain about everything from the food to the staff to her dining tablemates, and that her feet hurt. She is still sharp as a tack and misses nothing. Boggles my mind.
I've had a thought over the years that might not make sense to anyone, but it makes perfect sense to me:
If we cannot remember being born, how can we remember dying?
Cheers.
LMS
PS- RIP Jack Kotran, you will be missed my great friend. I know you're up there with your bottle of yellow Gatorade, spiked with Absolute and a bucket of Tootsie Pops ready to cheer on your Caballeros in 2011. =D
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Obscure Tangents
While in the midst of yet another fitful night of sleep, my thoughts bouncing around in my head like an Arkanoid ball on acid, I had a few I'd like to share. If only to get them out so I can make sense of them.
First off, getting back to my parents. What parents don't want to eagerly take their child off to visit colleges and help them make a choice on a fine institution of learning? Mine. I wanted to go to the Culinary Institute of America in New Hyde Park, NY, and was accepted to my utter elation and surprise. When the weekend came for me to go visit the school, my Dad had "something come up" and couldn't take me. Somehow later I found out that my Mom had gotten his ear and told him not to take me. An enabler she is, but only if it suits her needs. She never supported my cause or ambition when I auditioned for, and made the Crossmen in 1996, thus making me practice harder and raising all the money myself. (she was ecstatic when I busted my knee and had to leave tour early, though not saying it in so many words).
It still hurts, knowing I wanted be a chef since I was 16, and being told to "give it time and see if that's really what you want to do", "you have no idea how hard those hours are with no holidays or weekends off". And on and on. I went and did the Manhattan/cubicle rat thing for a while, and temped at every place imaginable only to be completely miserable and empty.
I met and married Glenn and suddenly I had to cook for someone. I remembered that I had a passion for it and thus went looking at culinary schools, to finish what I never got to start nearly a decade earlier. I never went to culinary school, although I was accepted to 6 different schools in the NYC Metro area, as it was just too expensive and too much stress on a new marriage. Instead I found work anywhere I could in the hospitality/food service industry. I learned a lot from a lot of great people, and some life lessons from a few misogynistic douche bags that felt women had no place in "back of the house" work unless it meant getting chased around a desk or fucked stupid in the walk-in. I had no interest in either scenario, so I moved on from those places only to find a better environment, and people to learn from. (Still mostly men, as the women in a chef's position can be more of an unholy ass munch than the men).
My Mom made it decidedly easy for me to hold off on having a baby, if only for the way she held me back from so many things I wanted to do in life. Remind me to tell you all about California someday.
I really feel deep down that Glenn isn't in a rush to have kids either. He lost his father at age 11, and never really had a father figure around to teach him all the big boy things. Glenn is a mans man, and I do not, by any stretch, mean to imply otherwise. I also think that he's comfortable with his life the way it is and is okay with no offspring. Hooray for more Border Collies.
WHOA, LOOK... A BUNNY!
I need to practice my mellophone sometime before next weekend and get the warm-up book and Opener under my fingers and somewhat memorized, I just can't seem to motivate myself. I learn faster and memorize easier at ensemble anyway. Some things never change.
On that note, boned stuffed duck in a pastry crust is my task this weekend that I am going to thoroughly enjoy. Did I mention this was about tangents?
Cheers.
LMS
First off, getting back to my parents. What parents don't want to eagerly take their child off to visit colleges and help them make a choice on a fine institution of learning? Mine. I wanted to go to the Culinary Institute of America in New Hyde Park, NY, and was accepted to my utter elation and surprise. When the weekend came for me to go visit the school, my Dad had "something come up" and couldn't take me. Somehow later I found out that my Mom had gotten his ear and told him not to take me. An enabler she is, but only if it suits her needs. She never supported my cause or ambition when I auditioned for, and made the Crossmen in 1996, thus making me practice harder and raising all the money myself. (she was ecstatic when I busted my knee and had to leave tour early, though not saying it in so many words).
It still hurts, knowing I wanted be a chef since I was 16, and being told to "give it time and see if that's really what you want to do", "you have no idea how hard those hours are with no holidays or weekends off". And on and on. I went and did the Manhattan/cubicle rat thing for a while, and temped at every place imaginable only to be completely miserable and empty.
I met and married Glenn and suddenly I had to cook for someone. I remembered that I had a passion for it and thus went looking at culinary schools, to finish what I never got to start nearly a decade earlier. I never went to culinary school, although I was accepted to 6 different schools in the NYC Metro area, as it was just too expensive and too much stress on a new marriage. Instead I found work anywhere I could in the hospitality/food service industry. I learned a lot from a lot of great people, and some life lessons from a few misogynistic douche bags that felt women had no place in "back of the house" work unless it meant getting chased around a desk or fucked stupid in the walk-in. I had no interest in either scenario, so I moved on from those places only to find a better environment, and people to learn from. (Still mostly men, as the women in a chef's position can be more of an unholy ass munch than the men).
My Mom made it decidedly easy for me to hold off on having a baby, if only for the way she held me back from so many things I wanted to do in life. Remind me to tell you all about California someday.
I really feel deep down that Glenn isn't in a rush to have kids either. He lost his father at age 11, and never really had a father figure around to teach him all the big boy things. Glenn is a mans man, and I do not, by any stretch, mean to imply otherwise. I also think that he's comfortable with his life the way it is and is okay with no offspring. Hooray for more Border Collies.
WHOA, LOOK... A BUNNY!
I need to practice my mellophone sometime before next weekend and get the warm-up book and Opener under my fingers and somewhat memorized, I just can't seem to motivate myself. I learn faster and memorize easier at ensemble anyway. Some things never change.
On that note, boned stuffed duck in a pastry crust is my task this weekend that I am going to thoroughly enjoy. Did I mention this was about tangents?
Cheers.
LMS
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Who will take care of me?
Lately I've been thinking a lot about children. Here I am, 35 years old, and married over 11 years to a wonderful man. We have a full life of travel, friends, family, a terrific Border Collie, etc. But something is still missing.
My sister never had children, and my Mom, as great as she is, was never "Mother of the Year" material. She always preached how much she hated kids, wasn't going to change her life or have her life revolve around that of her children. Is it any wonder why I can't bring myself to have any?
My parents were older when they had me, and had already gone through all of the "kid things" with my sister who is 10 years older than I am. My sister tried everything, and got bored, or sometimes kicked out of things like Girl Scouts, class trips, etc. When it came to my turn to join and do and be, my Mom said no to all of it. I couldn't be a Girl Scout because my sister hated it, and/or lost interest. Why couldn't I just try at anything?
When I picked up the trumpet in 4th grade, my Dad was happy, my Mom was like, "I give this 6 months". 27 years later. I think I kept at it just to prove her wrong, but I was actually good at it and it came naturally to me. I was never athletic or particularly brilliant, but I took to music like a duck takes to water, or to my roasting pan.
I remember having to beg my parents to come to a football game on Saturday mornings just so they could watch me perform with the Marching Band. Daddy came to a few games, but never my Mom. They never came to watch me perform at band competitions. They did come to most of the Staten Island parades, and to my Senior year Christmas concert, and I remember my Mom saying of my solo in Concert Band, "I had no idea you could play like that!" What do you think all those years/hours of practice amount to? SERIOUSLY??!
They came to one show in 1995 and another show in 1998 when I was marching with the Sunrisers. They never saw me perform as a Caballero or saw my featured solo live in 2007. There's still time though, as I'm marching in 2011. It's not just about me, now my husband is head drum major and it's a family affair. If not for me, come see your son-in-law, for pity sake.
As I watch several of my close girlfriends have babies, and see the joy as they raise them, it makes me yearn to be a mother. Am I terrified at my age now to have a baby? Absolutely. Not only for the health risks involved, but for all the awful jokes I've said over the years about such things as retards, baby in a blender jokes, etc. What goes around...
Back to my parents. Daddy was/is great, and I never realized how amazing that man is until I got older. My Mom is amazing, too, but as I get older I realize also that she can be narrow minded, prejudiced, and just plain ignorant at times. Frustrates me to no end some of the things that spew out of her mouth. And age is no excuse for being uncouth.
If I am blessed enough to have a child, I don't want to be smothering or Soccer Mom of the Millennium, but I want to be there for them and share all their accomplishments and support them in anyway I can. I want to take them to Disney World and see the happiness on their face at seeing that magical place for the first time. Take them to California and teach them about Redwoods. Take them to my favorite places, show them music, dance, art, theater, movies, hot air balloons at dawn. Have them love food as much as I do, but teach them moderation and discipline at the same time. Is this selfish of me?
The biggest thing: Who will take care of me and my husband when we're older? Like I take care of my parents now. Who will I pass all of our things onto? Who will continue our family line?
This is where I'm at for the past, oh I don't know, 8 months or so. I feel like I haven't accomplished anything in my life. I seem to fail at life. I hate the winter rot gut.
Cheers.
LMS
My sister never had children, and my Mom, as great as she is, was never "Mother of the Year" material. She always preached how much she hated kids, wasn't going to change her life or have her life revolve around that of her children. Is it any wonder why I can't bring myself to have any?
My parents were older when they had me, and had already gone through all of the "kid things" with my sister who is 10 years older than I am. My sister tried everything, and got bored, or sometimes kicked out of things like Girl Scouts, class trips, etc. When it came to my turn to join and do and be, my Mom said no to all of it. I couldn't be a Girl Scout because my sister hated it, and/or lost interest. Why couldn't I just try at anything?
When I picked up the trumpet in 4th grade, my Dad was happy, my Mom was like, "I give this 6 months". 27 years later. I think I kept at it just to prove her wrong, but I was actually good at it and it came naturally to me. I was never athletic or particularly brilliant, but I took to music like a duck takes to water, or to my roasting pan.
I remember having to beg my parents to come to a football game on Saturday mornings just so they could watch me perform with the Marching Band. Daddy came to a few games, but never my Mom. They never came to watch me perform at band competitions. They did come to most of the Staten Island parades, and to my Senior year Christmas concert, and I remember my Mom saying of my solo in Concert Band, "I had no idea you could play like that!" What do you think all those years/hours of practice amount to? SERIOUSLY??!
They came to one show in 1995 and another show in 1998 when I was marching with the Sunrisers. They never saw me perform as a Caballero or saw my featured solo live in 2007. There's still time though, as I'm marching in 2011. It's not just about me, now my husband is head drum major and it's a family affair. If not for me, come see your son-in-law, for pity sake.
As I watch several of my close girlfriends have babies, and see the joy as they raise them, it makes me yearn to be a mother. Am I terrified at my age now to have a baby? Absolutely. Not only for the health risks involved, but for all the awful jokes I've said over the years about such things as retards, baby in a blender jokes, etc. What goes around...
Back to my parents. Daddy was/is great, and I never realized how amazing that man is until I got older. My Mom is amazing, too, but as I get older I realize also that she can be narrow minded, prejudiced, and just plain ignorant at times. Frustrates me to no end some of the things that spew out of her mouth. And age is no excuse for being uncouth.
If I am blessed enough to have a child, I don't want to be smothering or Soccer Mom of the Millennium, but I want to be there for them and share all their accomplishments and support them in anyway I can. I want to take them to Disney World and see the happiness on their face at seeing that magical place for the first time. Take them to California and teach them about Redwoods. Take them to my favorite places, show them music, dance, art, theater, movies, hot air balloons at dawn. Have them love food as much as I do, but teach them moderation and discipline at the same time. Is this selfish of me?
The biggest thing: Who will take care of me and my husband when we're older? Like I take care of my parents now. Who will I pass all of our things onto? Who will continue our family line?
This is where I'm at for the past, oh I don't know, 8 months or so. I feel like I haven't accomplished anything in my life. I seem to fail at life. I hate the winter rot gut.
Cheers.
LMS
A beginning.
January 5, 2011. Two years ago today I started a life change of personal improvement, better health, weight loss, and overall well being. I lost 30 lbs, gained back 10 this past year, but have maintained for the most part. I now want to lose another 20 lbs before Flag Day in June in order to prepare myself for my return to the drum corps field with my Hawthorne Caballeros after a 3 season hiatus. My body will hate me for it, I guarantee it.
This will be a challenge, and I will get lazy and apathetic about it, but that's how I roll. I'm a chef and love food and all that it involves. I just bought a 6 lbs duck and Liverwurst yesterday. Did I need to? No. But I did it anyway, and will surely suffer for it, but it's SO good. Duck Confit anyone? Liverwurst and onions on Naan bread? Divine.
It annoys me sometimes when people come to me for advice about health and weight loss. I'm no expert, I just didn't want to be a fattie pig fattie anymore. I was on my way to type-2 diabetes, a heart attack, and potentially being harpooned on the beach, mistaken for a beached whale. It took for me to lose the first 10 lbs for my husband to tell me, "You were getting fat". It hurt, but he was right.
Anyway, I don't want this blog to be all about weight loss, as most women blog about such things all the time. Do I expect this to be my breakthrough into greatness? Probably not, but I do expect it to be a place where I can really say what's on my mind, uncensored and unapologetic.
Cheers.
LMS
This will be a challenge, and I will get lazy and apathetic about it, but that's how I roll. I'm a chef and love food and all that it involves. I just bought a 6 lbs duck and Liverwurst yesterday. Did I need to? No. But I did it anyway, and will surely suffer for it, but it's SO good. Duck Confit anyone? Liverwurst and onions on Naan bread? Divine.
It annoys me sometimes when people come to me for advice about health and weight loss. I'm no expert, I just didn't want to be a fattie pig fattie anymore. I was on my way to type-2 diabetes, a heart attack, and potentially being harpooned on the beach, mistaken for a beached whale. It took for me to lose the first 10 lbs for my husband to tell me, "You were getting fat". It hurt, but he was right.
Anyway, I don't want this blog to be all about weight loss, as most women blog about such things all the time. Do I expect this to be my breakthrough into greatness? Probably not, but I do expect it to be a place where I can really say what's on my mind, uncensored and unapologetic.
Cheers.
LMS
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