Foodie in the Making!

The kid and I were watching Paula Deen and one of her sons talking about their years running "The Bag Lady." He was inspired. First, he told me he'd take my food and sell it door-to-door or at businesses. Aware of his own charm, he said, "I'd get ridiculous prices for it, too." Then he said, "We should get a van and drive it around the city and cook."

"Like a food truck?" I asked.

"Yeah!"

"You know the health department is all over those. We have to work hard and keep it super clean!"

I figured that would change his mind, he-of-the-science-project-on-growing-random-things-bedroom. But who I am to discourage my child's entrepreneurship/ideas? Maybe he'll really do it one day!

A Day in The Life...

Ok, more than a day. This is an opportunity for me to say, "Look how tired but happy I am!" and a real diary-like entry for the future.

Friday, I left Texas, en route to Louisiana for Spring Break. My sister and her crew had come to visit for their Spring Break, so we traveled as a mini caravan.

At least, until I was pulled over by the most talkative (but friendly) cop in Texas. I thought the speed limit was 70 because it was daytime. He claimed it dropped to 60 at some point and I was going 74 (yes, speeding either way, I know, I know).

I told him I hadn't seen it drop (I really hadn't) but that I fully acknowledged I was going 74. I don't argue with cops or try to talk my way out of anything. It's a matter of pride for me, even though I cannot afford a ticket. He asked me where I was going.

"Louisiana."

"Long ride," he said. (Yeah, that's why I was going 74). He then launched into a story of how he had been stationed at Ft. Polk and how far was my hometown from there and the lack of big cities, etc. etc.

I mostly nodded and smiled then drove away happily with my warning. I would only go 72 in a 70 mph zone, I decided. That's a compromise, right?

After two stops and about nine hours, we made it home. Bed, you think?

Wrong! I had a Lemon-and-Lime anniversary party on Saturday for which I needed to decorate. I'd thought the party was the 20th which would give me time to get home to prepare. I was wrong and we were on the clock. It was a relatively casual party, but still!

Coti deserted me, my sister promised she'd come cook the next day, mrs. o was exhausted from her own too busy week. So, Janna, T'niya, Tren, Mama and I went to work in the main room while Dee (one of the honorees) cleaned the kitchen and unpacked groceries.

We made all sorts of lovely discoveries. The last renters of the place hadn't cleaned. It was filthy. We planned to use three tables for a buffet style meal and set up eight for guests. We only set up six, because so many were broken. Below you can see our efforts-in-progress.





I made it back to my parents' at 2 AM and couldn't sleep. I decided to read. Around 4 AM, I dropped that book in my damned eye and realized, it was time.

Of course, I woke up at 5, fell back to sleep, and woke up for good at 8. I was excited about the day and had so much to doooooooooooo.

Coti, in makeup mode, agreed to play chauffeur. I went to every store in town, I swear (which amounts to fewer than ten, but still) for last minute items like pans. And, I changed my mind again and decided I wanted to do a small candy buffet. I had jars; I just needed yellow and green candies. I bought every bag of lemonheads and Andes mints at Dollar General, then bought the little green and white mints from another store. My sister brought green jolly ranchers, lemon drops, and green and white candy rings from a neighboring town. Coti and Tren filled a center vase with lemons and limes, and voila!





But food. I'd decided we'd have sandwiches and salads. Plus, the hubby involved wanted wings. So, our menu (sandwich wise) was mini burgers, mini pulled pork sandwiches, these hot deli sandwiches I make on rolls with a spinach and cream cheese based spread, and chicken salad sandwiches. Salads were chef's salad, potato salad, coleslaw, a fruit salad, and pasta salad. And we were going to have barbecue wings and Italian wings.

No way could I do that, all alone in, a day, in a kitchen with one really small stove. I had so much help. Coti cut up meat and cheese for the deli sandwiches, ran to the store, and stopped at everyone's house to pick up miscellany. Tren made chicken salad, she and Mama made sandwiches, and assembled deli sandwiches. My sister made the green salad, patted out some of the hamburgers and she and Tren fixed up the punch. Tesha made half the coleslaw, seasoned the chicken, made potato salad, cut up lemons and limes. Mama cut up the honeydew (we wanted green and yellow fruits for the fruit salad with a few strawberries to make it "pop" but we didn't know how to approach that honeydew :-). Mrs. O peeled potatoes and sliced rolls. I seasoned the hamburgers and patted out most of them, made coleslaw, cut up strawberries, made a pasta salad, made limeade and lemonade, made the spread for the deli sandwiches, prepared the roasts for the pulled pork, and made barbecue sauce. I also made pitchers of way too strong margaritas, mojitos, and lemon drop martinis (I was serious about the yellow and green, y'all). That stuff was so strong, I didn't touch it. I don't like to taste alcohol in my alcoholic drinks. Initially, I planned to mix and pour as the night proceeded, but my cousins said no, we were not going to run and serve the whole night. So we set up cups and set the pitchers and ice out. I also had two punchbowls, one with a limeade based punch and the other with a lemonade based punch.





I was on my feet for nine hours, on four hours of sleep. And the night before, I'd gotten about five hours then taught and drove all day. You know where this story is going, right?

My back! My ankles! I couldn't bend over by the time the party actually started. The hot shower didn't help as I hoped it would. I kept my cute little open toe heels on for all of ten minutes before I retreated to the kitchen and my house shoes. It was lovely and we were all in good moods, but Dee and Mike like blues music and I can't get down with it.

I made it until midnight. I had to come home and have mama rub my back with Bengay. Muscle aches beat my cute black dress and shoes! I'm getting old, y'all, for real.

I was supposed to go to Family and Friends' Day at my cousins' church. Church started at 11. I rolled over at 10:52, thought about making it, realized my clock was an hour behind and flopped back over.

I finally stumbled up, my eyes full of sawdust (I didn't drink the stuff I made. I did, however, have Malibu coconut rum and pineapple juice), and my body aching. I ate a plate of collard greens so I could have something on my stomach to take three ibuprofen for my poor body. A few hours, a coke, and this long story later, I feel better.

I could go again! But I think I will just climb in bed with this book I found.

No use in overdoing it :-p

Ready for the Restaurant...

Y'all know, after I'm tenured and make my way all the way to full professor, I'm catering or becoming a restaurateur :-)

Anyway, I think I'll start sharing some of the constant experimenting I do here. And when I break down and buy another digital camera, I'll have pretty, shiny pics.

What we had last night:

BBQ pork sandwiches
Coleslaw
Corn on the cob

I highly recommend all these. I didn't use poppy seeds in the coleslaw, though. And I just boiled the corn with a little vinegar, sugar, butter, and salt. I rubbed the roast Sunday, then came home between my morning class and evening class yesterday to put it in the oven. We had a way late dinner.

And of course, all my kid ate was corn on the cob. That's why I slacked up on my cooking for a while, but forget him! ;-p

100 Facts about Elle (27)

Apparently, I don't love all chocolate.

I buy Hostess cupcakes, peel off and eat the fudgy icing, spoon the cream out of the middle, and throw the cake away.

Similarly, if I eat Oreos, I prefer double-stuff, because I lick the cream out of the middle and throw the cookies away. My cousin Tren, who has elevated Oreos and ice cream to a food group, refuses to share her Oreos with me for this reason.

Wasting Oreos, it seems, is akin to sacrilege.

Too Cute to Correct

Tonight my son asked me, "If you had to choose another career, what would you do?"

"Probably be an event planner. I don't know," I said, then didn't think anymore about it.

A little while ago, I fixed a snack--we wanted chocolate, but, alas, our cupboards are bare of that particular treat. So, I decided to put a thin layer of peanut butter on shortbread cookies. He loved it.

When he said good night, he reminded me once again how much he liked our "new" snack:

"No wonder you want to be an invent planner," he said, "You invent the best stuff!"

Fruity Friday

Of all the things my son could have volunteered me to make for his class party, he had to choose a damn fruit tray. Not a $2 bag of chips. Not juices or plates or candy.

A fruit tray, when I'm broke and not done Christmas shopping. And he told me all proud, "Guess what I told Mrs. F you'd bring?"

"What?"

"A fruit tray!"

"Did?!" I looked at him with one raised eyebrow and he went for flattery.

"I told her you do them all the time for weddings and stuff and you do a really good job."

So here is my hasty Friday morning fruit tray:


The fruit awaiting the cream cheese dip:


A close-up. The lopsided-ness is a direct result of the fact that a pint of itty-bitty strawberries was $4+, while grapes were about $1.70 a pound:


The cream cheese awaits a splash of milk, some powdered sugar and a little vanilla flavoring. It really is better to do it by hand with a fork or a whisk because a mixer makes it more like frosting than dip. And yet I mixed. File that under, "I don't know why I do the shit I do sometimes":


Done! (Well okay, after this pic, I went back and added/spruced up the kale).


Ready to go in a festive little bowl:


I'm ready for this winter break, I swear.

Gearing up for the Holidays

Deuce, with Alex, in Coti's hat

Two days before he turns seven months old and one week until I see him!! I am so ready for my Deucie-Deucie-Fat-and-Juicy (and yes, I call him that in my head, for real).

Anyway, the time between now and January 2 will pass in a busy blur (hopefully, a pleasant, busy blur) for me with Thanksgiving, finals, graduation, archive visit, Christmas, and New Year's intoxication all looming. I'm currently getting ready for my mom, sister, brother and sister-in-law and kids for Thanksgiving. Hectic, but okay.

Anyway, are you celebrating Thanksgiving? If so, how? And, (the important question :-) what are you cooking??

Anatomy of a Lazy Friday Morning

I'm being totally shameful this morning. I woke up for the second time around 8:45 and have been in bed most of the time since.

I have developed a hunger headache, but I don't want to cook, don't want cereal because my refrigerator gets the milk too cold for my poor teeth, don't want a cold sandwich. Apparently, I just want to whine and have a headache.

I had an appointment for highlights at 11, but as my stylist warned me that it wold take two hours at least, I rescheduled. Don't feel like spending Friday like that, but now I'm going to have to wash my own hair.

I want to do more work today (spent last night examining microfilmed newspapers from 1960) and am trying to arrange it so I don't have to do much more than sit up to write and read. The laptop is on a tiny table right here beside the bed. And the books:



It occurs to me that it might seem sad that the other side of my bed is covered with books. I'm almost motivated to do something about it... almost. Any rectification will have to wait until after the nap I'm about to take.

Speshul Nooz

If I haven't said it before, green tea is absolutely the nectar of the gods.

Since I'm on my second serving of the night, I see myself heading for a daybreak bedtime.

But, my god, it's worth it.

Back to Food

No surprise for me :-p

I have family coming for a week at Thanksgiving and am planning meals that freeze well. I am also dusting off my "only when it gets cool" recipes.

Two things I plan to make are taco soup and chicken pot pie. Why I have chicken pot pie as a cool recipe, I don't know, but there you have it.

Anyway, give me ideas! What are some of your cool weather dishes? They don't have to all be freezable. I have a couple more I'm making, but I'm stumped for seven days!

Late Night Snack, Pt. 2

No horror story, this time... yet.

When I was young, tuna fish was one of the staples of kid birthday parties on my circuit. Tuna on crackers (we loved the moms who used Ritz crackers instead of saltines :-) or on soft white bread cut into squares or triangles usually sat nestled among a bowl of chips, the cake with the crunchy, colorful decorations, and punch which was usually kicked up tropical punch kool-aid (all red kool-aids are NOT equal!).

But, when my cousins, sister, and I got older, we realized eating the tuna fish was one thing. Opening it and having the smell on your hands was quite another. We abandoned tuna fish once we learned to make chicken salad which was basically the same recipe with chicken breasts and no smell. We also abandoned the practice of baking cakes and applying the decorations. I used to love the anticipation created by smelling that birthday cake baking. Now, amongst my sometimes-bougie set of friends, my suggestion that I bake my son's birthday cake is met with horror.

The other day at work, one of the psychologists on my hall brought tuna for lunch. She had her door open and the scent wafted down the hallway. Rather than being turned off, I suddenly had a craving for tuna. I picked up some Friday night. And a little while ago I "made tuna fish" for the first time in forever. I think what my family eats/makes is probably properly called tuna salad, but we don't say that.

Anyway, I put in Miracle Whip (I'm not touching that black people don't eat mayonnaise thing, but at my house, well, we didn't :-), sweet pickle relish, a little sugar, and chopped up bits of 1) a granny smith apple 2) red onion and 3) boiled eggs. My mom also uses Kraft Sandwich Spread, but my lazy ass figures with the pickle relish, who needs it?

Y'all, that was the best thing ever! How could I have forgotten? I'm about to run out for Ritz crackers in a minute, I swear.

But my late night snack has me thinking about all the ways people jazz up basic foods. I mean, a few weeks ago I was looking for a new mac and cheese recipe, came across a approximately a thousand, and used one that was absolutely horrible. I also experiment a lot with my spaghetti sauce and tacos.

So what common/basic food do you add a little somethin'-somethin' extra to? I'd really like to know because I'm always trying new things. And though I've been HORRIBLE about responding to my commenters this semester, I love y'all and I promise I'm reading, so please share your ideaas.

Fast Food Moratorium

I’m no great fan of fast food. My personal tastes lie elsewhere. I’ve done the obligatory reading of Fast Food Nation. I think it’s repulsive that so many food ads target kids. I also know the hell that McDonald’s Chicken McNugget and subsequent “further processed” items have wrought for poultry processing workers—think I’m kidding? Read Steve Striffler’s Chicken: The Dangerous Transformation of America’s Favorite Food.

But something about this is not quite reassuring:

City officials are putting South Los Angeles on a diet. The City Council voted unanimously Tuesday to place a moratorium on new fast food restaurants in an impoverished swath of the city with a proliferation of such eateries and above-average rates of obesity.

Maybe it’s the reporters “cute” use of the word diet, when we all know how well those don’t work.

My real complaint is that banning fast food restaurants seems just to skim the surface of this issue. How will the city bring more healthful alternatives to poor communities? More importantly, how will people in South L.A. afford it? Closing fast food restaurants does nothing to address the underlying issue of poverty. Residents will still have limited resources for buying food, as one man attests:

South Los Angeles resident Curtis English acknowledged that fast food is loaded with calories and cholesterol. But since he's unemployed and does not have a car, it serves as a cheap, convenient staple for him.

On Monday, he ate breakfast and lunch -- a sausage burrito and double cheeseburger, respectively -- at a McDonald's a few blocks from home for just $2.39.

Emphasis mine. With less money to spend on food, people typically by cheaper foods. Inexpensive foods are packed with fat and sugar, the cheapest additives, Striffler argues, to give them taste.

Relatedly, how will declaring a moratorium on fast food restaurants help people who can’t afford to eat out anywhere? Within this group, if we focus on the subset who receive food stamps—and I say subset because many, many people who qualify for food stamps don't receive any--and get most of their foods from local stores, a moratorium will not bring more grocery stores with better fresh food offerings to the area. Lack of access to such stores is a problem in South L.A.:

South Los Angeles lacks grocery stores, fresh produce markets and full-service restaurants with wait staff and food prepared to order.
South Los Angeles only has four major grocery stores, as compared to 13 in West Los Angeles

The emphasis on fast food obscures at least one other detail, as well. Fast food restaurants, defined “as those that do not offer table service and provide a limited menu of pre-prepared or quickly heated food in disposable wrapping,” aren’t exactly unique in their less-than-healthful alternatives. The menus at so-called “casual dining” and upscale restaurants can be daunting.

In our e-mail discussion of the article, Liss noted that the moratorium brings up employment issues. Fast food restaurants offer entry-level jobs to unskilled workers. I do not claim they are pleasant or particularly fulfilling jobs, but that they are often needed. My co-blogger, mrs. o, helped her mother care for a family of five by working at McDonald’s. And for a few people, it offers some upward mobility through management jobs.

Finally, this sentence aggravated me:

The moratorium, which can be extended up to a year, only affects standalone restaurants, not eateries located in malls or strip shopping centers.

I’m assuming that it’s not poor people who are spending lots of money shopping; I wonder why the city exempts malls. It gives me a whole, “Let’s regulate the poor,” feeling.

Or, more specifically, “Let’s regulate the brown and black poor.” Speaking in terms of substances that are legal, we have constructed the process of taking things into our body as highly personal, a matter of free choice. The limitations that the government places on our alcohol consumption or where we smoke, for example, are primarily to protect the safety and well-being of other people. Americans, as the myth goes, are individualists who would not take much more governmental interference with such intimate choices.

Yet, the symbol of that rugged American individual who gets to choose and to benefit from free will has, by default, been white and male. I think it is no coincidence that officials in South L.A., which is overwhelmingly Latin@ and black, decided to enact this moratorium. I think one very valid question is would it be suggested or implemented in poor area composed of primarily white residents? In a country that has typically held the choices and bodies of white men in highest regard? A healthy dose of skepticism is absolutely required when the government claims to act in the best interest of the health and welfare of people of color.

In the same vein, we need to examine other motivations behind the ban. As South L.A. is an impoverished area, many of the residents are probably eligible for Medicaid and Medicare programs. According to one 2005 article, these two programs paid for half of all health-care costs attributed to obesity (quite the blanket category and one of which I am particularly wary given my own experiences with doctors who fault patients' weight for a wide range of problems).* Is this moratorium, then, about a nanny state protecting people from themselves, as the link Petulant posted earlier suggests, or is it like other governmental limitations protecting the (economic) well-being of others?

Either way it is framed is problematic. Either people who are black and brown, poor and fat, cannot be entrusted to care for themselves--a framing that ignores the very real lack of choice mentioned earlier and other obstacles to quality health and health care. Or, their fat, black and brown bodies represent a threat to taxpayers' wallets--and "taxpayers," when we talk about funding of social programs like Medicaid and Medicare, are constructed as white and non-poor.
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*Eric A. Finkelstein, Christopher J. Ruhm, Katherine M. Kosa, “Economic Causes and Consequences of Obesity,” Annual Review of Public Health, 26, (April 2005): 239-257. Can't find this article for free online, but Dr. Michelle Mello mentions the statistic here.