Most of my generation will recall a very annoying Gatorade commercial from 1991; back when Michael Jordan still played for the Bulls (the first time). It was insanely popular and that terrible song was constantly stuck in the minds of young children: like Mike, if I could be like Mike! Well, in 1991 you probably did want to be like Mike; he was wildly famous and extremely wealthy, had won his first NBA Championship, and was the epitome of a positive role model with his clean-cut public persona. Kids loved him, parents loved him even more!
In 1991, Michael Jordan was someone young children could look up to. Fast forward 19 years to the year 2010, and many individuals may not feel that same way anymore. In the past 19 years, he retired, tried his hand at professional baseball, came out of retirement, retired, un-retired again, had a few adultery scandals, got divorced and while he’s finally retired (for good this time) and the NBA official website still touts him as the greatest basketball player of all time, I think he’s landed himself somewhere in VH-1 “where are they now” obscurity. OH, I almost forgot his gambling problem that was first uncovered in Atlantic City, Q-Jersey!!
I don’t want to be like Mike, I never wanted to be like Mike. I wasn’t a girly-girl, I didn’t dream about being a princess and I for sure never dreamt about being married and having kids. I wanted to be a career gal wearing power suits with shoulder pads. Maybe I’d be a doctor or a lawyer, but definitely not a boring old school teacher (no offense meant to my teacher friends, but well if you know me, you know teaching just isn’t my forte); then one day I awoke and announced that I was going to be a chef. My parents slightly indulged my wishes and didn’t really complain much as long as the cookies were yummy and I didn’t burn down the house.
Julia Child was my role model. Here was a woman who didn’t really care much about what anyone thought of her and she didn’t try to hide or cover up her mistakes. She just did was she loved doing and didn’t care about much else. If she dropped something on the floor, she’d just pick it up and go back to work. Nothing got in her way, not even that tricky puff pastry. Her carefree attitude about cooking and really about life is awe inspiring still to this day. She was a pioneer; this was looooooong before the days of Food Network and most women on tv were on Soap Operas or Roseanne back when I was in a budding little pre-teen trying to figure out life. To me, she was the end-all-be-all of what I wanted to be when I grew up.
Although I near my {gasp} 30th birthday, I think I can still learn a lot from my childhood idol. However, I’ve turned my recent attentions from Julia to Martha. Martha Stewart is the definition of success. She went from being a model to working on Wall Street to various other employs, eventually turning her every day chores into an enterprise. To top it all off, she went to jail for 5 months, I expected she’d head to that VH-1 obscurity … but she came out even stronger and more popular than before. Throughout her life, when the world got her down or she was kicked aside, she got right back up and demanded more. She has turned her personal opinions, experiences and lifestyle into an enormous omnimedia corporation, yet she can still tell you which generic brand foods taste just the same as the expensive brands so that you can save some pennies while trying to cook along at home to one of her recipes. And I truly believe she taste tests it all herself. Why? Because Martha Stewart is a perfectionist. Sometimes perfectionists get negative press, we’re called high-maintenance or b*tchy, but I think perfection is a positive thing! While I have absolutely no intention of spending time in jail, I would be glad to be like Martha.
Martha is my hero; Julia is my idol. I think if I can strike the right balance of Julia’s positivity and carefree attitude mixed with Martha’s perfectionist attention to detail and fortitude that I can accomplish anything that I set out to do. To prove this to myself on a very, VERY small scale, tonight I’m making a chocolate cake from scratch using ingredients I’ve never used before then frosting it with homemade chocolate cream cheese icing, which I have never even tasted before. Both recipes are featured in the April 2010 edition of Martha Stewart Living; I’m not sure I can reprint it here without getting in trouble but I’ll be sure to let you know how good it tastes!!
I found a recipe on Martha’s site that is close to the same chocolate cake recipe in the magazine: http://www.marthastewart.com/recipe/one-bowl-chocolate-cake
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
it was an easter MIRACLE!!
March was rough: our dishwasher broke which I turned into an opportunity for a full kitchen renovation but then I got shingles and didn’t move for a week which was followed by a debilitating stomach virus. To top it all off, Dan came down with the same virus on the same day I finally started feeling better. What could have been a project completed in 2-3 weekends turned into something lasting longer than a month and I wasn’t able to cook for about 3 straight weeks … I was in hell. As a result, I channeled my inner Bob Villa, flashed back to the old times with Brucie in the garage, picked up Dan’s power tools and got to work! In no time, I was using the T-square to make perfect corners, laying down masking tape guides for the jigsaw, and putting in our new countertop all by myself (well ok, Dan helped lift it into place). I also got to play with the drill, belt sander, little sander, pliers, socket wrench, dremel, battery-powered screwdriver, crowbar, hammer, various other tools and my personal fave: the rubber mallet.
It is such a wonderful feeling of accomplishment; I installed a countertop and a sink! I sanded down all the cabinets and other wood using the belt sander with an 80 grade then 120 grade paper to finish them and make them all smooth. Then I got to work painting and painted from first morning’s tea until the last big girl glass of the evening. As of right now, the kitchen is about 96% done from a painting aspect and the counters are 33.3% done. We still have to put the counter top in under the stovetop and put the cabinets back together (the ones I decided I didn’t want sitting out in the middle, cutting my kitchen in half any longer) over on the other side of the kitchen. But all of that can wait and I won’t scream or cry or stomp my feet. Why? Because the most important part is done: the sink. Who knew the sink was so pivotal to the rest of the kitchen?? You can’t run the dishwasher without the sink so we were stuck on paper plates and plastic utensils. You can’t boil pasta without water, and I’ll be damned if I fill a pot of water in the bathtub and carry it into the kitchen; I barely have enough balance to make it from the sink to the stove. You can barely do ANYTHING without your kitchen sink properly installed and in place.
To celebrate my hard work and triumphant return to cooking, I promptly made dinner using the oven, stove, microwave and yes, of course, the sink. It was so nice being able to use my kitchen again for more than just reheating one of the many meals I’d cooked and frozen (and nearly ran out of). My stove was turned on, 3 burners at once! I think I heard my stove wheeze a sigh of thanks, he feels more useful when he’s cooking a real meal vs. just heating up the tea kettle. My oven definitely felt appreciated and used this opportunity to express his gratitude by filling the house with the wonderful smells of deliciousness that, for the first time in a week, weren’t the result of yet another Totinos pizza. Side note: if you ever have a really bad stomach virus, little bites of Totinos 4 cheese pizza with little sips of ginger ale keep the nausea at bay.
Sunday morning, I awoke to an Easter miracle. I’d gone to bed the night before, utterly exhausted and worn out from my hard work and manual labor; so tired that I actually hadn’t bothered to clean up the mess I’d made, something that never happens. Dan awoke Sunday morning to let the dogs out while I slept and, wait for it, waaaaaaiiiiiiiiiit for it … cleaned!!!!! I was able to go into my (halfway done) new kitchen, go straight to the fridge, and without having to dodge random tools strewn about or watch my step so I didn’t put a nail through my foot like the night before, I was able to cook! I decided to rejoice in the beauty of my half-finished kitchen by baking a strawberry French toast casserole to take to Easter brunch at Sam’s house. I carefully whipped my egg whites, creating soft peaks, before adding the buttermilk and slowly blending in maple syrup, brown sugar, granulated sugar and hot-oil cinnamon by hand, enjoying every last minute while the oven preheated. I then took a loaf of whole wheat French bread and sliced it into 1-inch cubes and placed it all into a deep casserole. I dusted the bread with more cinnamon, added a few dollops of the strawberry jam I’d picked up at the farmer’s market, then poured in my egg mix. After setting atop my new countertop for about 20 minutes (covered) letting the egg soak into the bread, I popped it in the oven for 40 minutes of blissfully aromatic baking. The house smelled amazing, the brunch dish turned out fabulous, and I had a very Happy Easter indeed.
We still have quite a bit of work ahead of us to finish the kitchen completely, but I was happy that for one day, I was able to cook!
It is such a wonderful feeling of accomplishment; I installed a countertop and a sink! I sanded down all the cabinets and other wood using the belt sander with an 80 grade then 120 grade paper to finish them and make them all smooth. Then I got to work painting and painted from first morning’s tea until the last big girl glass of the evening. As of right now, the kitchen is about 96% done from a painting aspect and the counters are 33.3% done. We still have to put the counter top in under the stovetop and put the cabinets back together (the ones I decided I didn’t want sitting out in the middle, cutting my kitchen in half any longer) over on the other side of the kitchen. But all of that can wait and I won’t scream or cry or stomp my feet. Why? Because the most important part is done: the sink. Who knew the sink was so pivotal to the rest of the kitchen?? You can’t run the dishwasher without the sink so we were stuck on paper plates and plastic utensils. You can’t boil pasta without water, and I’ll be damned if I fill a pot of water in the bathtub and carry it into the kitchen; I barely have enough balance to make it from the sink to the stove. You can barely do ANYTHING without your kitchen sink properly installed and in place.
To celebrate my hard work and triumphant return to cooking, I promptly made dinner using the oven, stove, microwave and yes, of course, the sink. It was so nice being able to use my kitchen again for more than just reheating one of the many meals I’d cooked and frozen (and nearly ran out of). My stove was turned on, 3 burners at once! I think I heard my stove wheeze a sigh of thanks, he feels more useful when he’s cooking a real meal vs. just heating up the tea kettle. My oven definitely felt appreciated and used this opportunity to express his gratitude by filling the house with the wonderful smells of deliciousness that, for the first time in a week, weren’t the result of yet another Totinos pizza. Side note: if you ever have a really bad stomach virus, little bites of Totinos 4 cheese pizza with little sips of ginger ale keep the nausea at bay.
Sunday morning, I awoke to an Easter miracle. I’d gone to bed the night before, utterly exhausted and worn out from my hard work and manual labor; so tired that I actually hadn’t bothered to clean up the mess I’d made, something that never happens. Dan awoke Sunday morning to let the dogs out while I slept and, wait for it, waaaaaaiiiiiiiiiit for it … cleaned!!!!! I was able to go into my (halfway done) new kitchen, go straight to the fridge, and without having to dodge random tools strewn about or watch my step so I didn’t put a nail through my foot like the night before, I was able to cook! I decided to rejoice in the beauty of my half-finished kitchen by baking a strawberry French toast casserole to take to Easter brunch at Sam’s house. I carefully whipped my egg whites, creating soft peaks, before adding the buttermilk and slowly blending in maple syrup, brown sugar, granulated sugar and hot-oil cinnamon by hand, enjoying every last minute while the oven preheated. I then took a loaf of whole wheat French bread and sliced it into 1-inch cubes and placed it all into a deep casserole. I dusted the bread with more cinnamon, added a few dollops of the strawberry jam I’d picked up at the farmer’s market, then poured in my egg mix. After setting atop my new countertop for about 20 minutes (covered) letting the egg soak into the bread, I popped it in the oven for 40 minutes of blissfully aromatic baking. The house smelled amazing, the brunch dish turned out fabulous, and I had a very Happy Easter indeed.
We still have quite a bit of work ahead of us to finish the kitchen completely, but I was happy that for one day, I was able to cook!
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