Hello, I'm sorry, I lost myself...

I think I thought you were going somewhere else...

David was at his conference in Vermont for two days which means it's me, the kids and the rental car all on our own. For those of you who've been following my blog since last November, when I attempted to navigate the NYC subway system in order to take my kids to Central Park Zoo but ended up in a Korean inhabited neighborhood of Brooklyn, you know I'm directionally "challenged".
The goal: to take the kids to the Ben & Jerry's ice cream factory in Waterbury. How tricky can that be?
I start by turning onto a road in downtown Burlington (how and why I chose this road seems trivial at this point) and Jett says, "Mommy I don't think this road is meant for cars." Because my six year old has been helping me find places since he was in a four point harness car seat, my heart drops as I realize he's right. Looking at my park surroundings, my best guess is that I'm on some sort of bike/jog trail. Continuing down the one way, windy path, my heart sinks even deeper: it is barricaded at the end with "wet paint" signs on the road. PANIC!!! There is no way I can reverse this car down the entire path. I'm pretty sure this Elantra doesn't have 4WD so I can't drive through the picnic area. What's a girl to do? I scan the area and see two city workers on their lunch break. Quick, Jeanine! Time to take on a half charming, half damsel in distress persona. It worked and next thing I know he's taking down "wet paint" signs (everything dry now), is standing in the middle of downtown traffic stopping cars so I can gracefully exit my rental car off the bike path.
Gathering myself together I find the highway and go about my way. People are zipping past me-one even honked as if I was the problem! These Vermonters are speed demons! Where are the cops? But, it does feel like we're kind of going slow. Then I remember...the rental was picked up in Toronto. The speedometer is marked for kilometers per hour, NOT MILES. So, using the tiny, idiot American mile markings, I pick up the pace. Now, I'm white knuckling it and I see a sign that warns me of impending moose in the next two miles. REALLY?!?! I just want a scoop of Ben & Jerry's!!!

Nothing Compares 2 U

So, after Niagara Falls it was pretty hard to impress me.
David: "Isn't Toronto a fun city?"
Me: "Not as fun as taking a boat ride under the falls."
David: "Isn't Ottawa beautiful?"
Me: "Not as beautiful as the falls."

...then I met poutine...
Poutine is Canada's answer to nachos...French fries and cheese curds smothered in gravy, cheese and various options. The one I had at Elgin St. Diner was covered in several cheeses and came freshly covered in gravy so hot the cheese melted shortly after I snapped this shot.
Oh Canada!

Freefalling!

I'm outside the U.S.
Can you guess where I am?
I'll give you three hints:

1. Celine Dion.
2. A self proclaimed form of bacon that suspiciously looks and tastes just like ham.
3. "eh?"

If you said "Canada" you are correct and very smart. Now, can you guess where in Canada I am? I'll give you three hints:

1. Superman 2
2. Pam and Jim (The Office)
3. Nik Wallenda

If you said "Niagara Falls" you are correct and probably watch too much television.

When I was a little girl, I watched Superman 2 (before we judged a film by its quality of special effects, but rather on characters and plot line) and was amazed by Niagara Falls and thought to myself, someday I'm going there! And I'll stay in a hotel with a fire pit in the bedroom! Too cool!
Fast forward to my adulthood, watching my favorite show "The Office" and lo and behold Pam and Jim get on a boat, donning garbage bag style slickers and get married while being sprayed by the falls. Too romantic!
So about a month or so ago I'm sitting at work and get an email from David informing me he booked a whirlwind trip to Niagara Falls and we needed to renew our passports. No problem!!! He looked into the hotel with a fire pit, but it's just a welcome center now. Bummer because I was going to throw David's glasses in the fire pit to confirm some suspicions I've had about him recently. Like when the dishes need washing he's nowhere to be found. Or when our kids were in diapers he was always MIA when they needed changing (only #2). Where is David, I wondered? Saving children falling from buildings? Or taking out bad guys?
So we get to my beloved Niagara Falls and by coincidence we picked the one weekend in over one hundred years that some tightrope walking maniac is crossing the falls. Really? What some considered a bonus I considered the equivalent to going to Disneyland in July: long lines and crowds. Oh well it was one night and mildly interesting.

The falls are even more beautiful than I imagined and the amount of water is mind boggling. I may not have gotten the fire pit, but I got the garbage bag, water drenching experience with my family; what's better than that?

Come on baby light my fire

I came home from work friday and discovered we had no water. I tried every faucet: dry. Each toilet had a one tank flush left. Disaster...
David investigated and found a burnt out control panel to the water. The magical water tank man came out and discovered the culprit: ants combusted into flames! Yup...big red ants in search of a cool and wet dwelling place made a living chain to the panel and created an electrical combustion where they met their fiery demise. Why don't mice do this, too?
Speaking of mice, we keep finding the oddest critters. A tiny frog in the pool. A moth the size of the palm of my hand. A slug so large I decided he could be a pet. And lizards...big lizards...little lizards...lizards in the planter...lizards on the stucco wall. A lizard even decided to join David for lunch one day. But the oddest place of all we found a lizard was in our Yukon. To complicate things, we couldn't get him out because he ran inside the dash for refuge. Finally, after a week of us driving around with a lizard in the vehicle, he came out and got his tail stuck on the speaker.
I can handle the frogs, moths and slugs. I enjoy the birds, bats and owls. Even the lizards are growing on me. But the mice still instill a fear I can't explain.
Inspired by the ant electrocution, I've decided to buy my favorite "Rosenberg" mouse traps of electrical death. Micespionage!!!

Lemon tree, very pretty, and the lemon flower is sweet

Operation lemonade is complete!
1 cup sugar + 1 cup boiling water + 1 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice = lemon serendipity.

Ice and vodka optional, but highly recommended.

Bleach: I don't know how to quit you...

So you may have noticed that my posts have been sparse as of late. That is because I'm moving.  Not out of the area; we are moving about five minutes down the road. We sold our suburban home and purchased one in the country so we can do as Lenny of Mice and Men once said, "An live off the fatta the lan!" This is a move my husband would have been willing to do fifteen years ago, but as an urban dweller, I've only recently come on board. During the first five minutes of the tour of this home, I was ready.  Of course, it wasn't until about half way through escrow, during our home inspection, that I found out what could have been a deal breaker: no bleach. Nope, something about the well, good bacteria, blah blah blah...I really don't care why, but the bottom line is no bleach allowed in a well water home.
Is this one of those rules people say they are following, but really don't, like flossing? Or a habit people pretend to have, like, "I only subscribe to cable so I can watch the History Channel"? Digging around amongst rural dWELLers produced responses that varied from "never use bleach" to "we don't follow that rule, but we don't use much bleach" to my sister's shocked reply, "You can't use bleach?"
I am not a neat freak. I am not a germaphobe.  I just love bleach with its chemical scent and power to whiten like the sun. And none of this Dollar Tree discount bleach: only Clorox. The off brands are half water. And none of the "non-splash" variety, as they add soap that bubbles when my sink fills with hot water and bleach. My every other day, hot water and bleach ritual that is no longer...sniff, sniff.
After resigning myself to the fact that with life comes compromise, I've hopped onto Pinterest (the other reason my posts have been sparse) to find alternatives to bleach.  Our new country home comes with four lemon bearing trees, and apparently the lemon is what God intended us to use to clean water spots off of shower chrome. Or the other pinner who claims that baking soda, with white vinegar, makes a paste similar to Comet (I doubt it) and scrubs away all sorts of grime. As I repinned this gem, I thought to myself, what have I become? Please don't let me become one of those "nuts 'n' berries" crazy ladies who makes her own face masks from the produce section!!! I don't want to start cleaning my mirrors out of a spray bottle filled with pressed daisies!!! I was the pregnant woman, who while being told by her OB/GYN to take birthing classes, angrily replied, "Do not send me to some woman wearing Dream Catcher earrings who tries to guilt me out of my epidural!" In life, there are strongly held beliefs one should never waiver on: use of legal painkillers, access to laser and the sanitation powers bleach holds.
We will be country people by next week, so what will I do? What VALID replacement is there for bleach? Please don't tell me to just use bleach sparingly, because being "balanced" is not an option for me...goodbye bleach!

Under Pressure

I bought a panini press.
Not just any press, but the Breville Panini 1500 watt grill. (My friend S., who can sell sand to an Arab, and manages a William Sonoma, sold it to me a few weeks back.)
The minute it was in my grubby hands I was dreaming of the possibilities: sourdough bread, my vovo's bread, muenster, cheddar, mozzarella, basil, tomatoes, ham, turkey....this thing will even grill a steak!!!
After several uses, I was convinced that THIS is the best thing since sliced bread. I even carted it over to my grandmother's and made a ham and cheese on homemade Portuguese bread for her and my uncle. The look on their eyes was priceless when they saw three inches of bread flattened into a crispy panini of perfection.
So, imagine how hurt I was when one morning, out the door, I mentioned we'd be eating paninis for dinner and David, in his "here we go again" tone of voice said: "Okay, don't ruin this panini thing for me." To which I replied, "Did I ruin the oven and stove for you the last 15 years I've been making you dinner in it!?!"

So I stewed over his words all day. Really? Me go overboard and ruin something for him? And I started thinking of all the examples I'd like to say to him...

When Selena died and I researched every possible explanation for her untimely death and memorized the Spanish words to her songs and even sang "Bidi Bidi Bom Bom" at karaoke, did I ruin Tejano music for you?

Or the first year, back in the late 90's, when PG&E announced price hikes and I, determined to not pay those monopolizing crooks another penny, turned the thermostat so low I was reduced to walking around the house wrapped in a sleeping bag (until the day you looked at me and said, "I can't believe you talked me into this!" and cranked the heat) did I ruin saving money for you?

Or, after watching Julie and Julia and then reading every book associated with the movie, I cooked French food for a solid month, did I ruin fine dining for you?

How about the time I read all those "Behind the Ears" books about Disneyland and recited every fact and detail of Disneyland to you on that four hour drive to Anaheim, did I ruin strong business management for you?

And of course, who could forget the Sound of Music tour in Salzburg, Austria? At the end of a very hot and long summer trip across Europe you conceded and we toured the city that was once Maria VonTrapp's! We rode the tour bus with people who, like me, know that the Sound of Music is cinematic storytelling at its best. A love triangle, a singing nanny, Nazis and nuns: perfection. As tourists sang along to such hits as, "How do you solve a problem like Maria?" we had to bite our lip and not laugh at the silliness of it all. The laughter was short lived, when later that night en route to Amsterdam to catch our flight home, we were stranded in the German ghetto (direct result of aforementioned tour). After a Frau took our 130€ we were back on track, so did I ruin Julie Andrews for you?

I don't understand David's need for balance (which is highly overrated), but I'm trying to limit us to one panini night a week. The possibilities are endless...

Mexi-nini using rolls from the Mexican bakery

Cattle-nini has steak and mashed potatoes leftover from Cattleman's

Portuguesi-nini made with my grandmother's thickly sliced bread

The more cheese, the better. I think this one had muenster and Columbus ham.

Egg McNini

She dreams in color, she dreams in bread...

Can't find the butter, man...

Paula Deen and the butter controversy have become quite out of hand. Now, I'm torn since Anthony Bourdain, with his sarcastic wit, is a favorite; but Paula is my idol. I dream about having my own cooking show in my mid 60's, where I cook with an abundance of saturated fats while flirting with much younger men. Is that so wrong? Plus, Tony, isn't it quite hypocritical to call Paula "America's worst enemy" while you have chain smoked, drank yourself under the table and eaten fried poop chute in underdeveloped countries?
So in support of our Diabetic friend, a group of good friends from my school and my sister, the original foodie, traveled to see Paula and Michael (a Johnny Carson and Ed McMahon southern style) live on stage. We rode the train, drank wine with cheese, ate at Jamie's Broadway Grill, drank cappuccino at an obscure coffee shop and ate breakfast at our hotel: Citizen's Hotel. I'll let you in on a little secret: Paula was staying there, too. We saw her hubby Michael and after a very star struck Miller Lite blubbered to him, we took pictures of him crossing the street. Awkward.
And now it's time to cook for Superbowl. I have no idea who is playing but I already know the menu.

'Cause you're amazing....just the way you are!

I'll begin with the moral of the story: if the machine "ain't broke", don't fix it!

My mother taught me early on there are some foods one should never order in a restaurant: meatloaf, lasagna, roast turkey...you get the idea. Basically anything your mom makes so well at home it would just be a disappointment in both taste and childhood memory to eat and then pay for. And my mom (as most moms do) makes the best turkey. This is because her mom makes the best turkey. Their secret is simple: slather the sucker with butter, salt, pepper, tightly foil wrap and cook low 'n' slow. I once researched their method and, according to the Poultry Council, their method should have killed us a long time ago. Oddly enough it wasn't that info that swayed me to change their process. It was Ina and her recipe for roasted turkey. Go figure.

I dry brined the turkey a day in advance, combining the following tips, techniques and tastes:

YouTube Dry Brine

NY Times Dry Brine

Food Network Dry Brine


Then I followed Ina's recipe here:
Ina's Empty Promises of Perfect Turkey

I substituted a couple sticks of butter for the truffle butter. Yeah, you read that right-a couple sticks. Everything's better with butter. I even once shoved butter inside hamburger patties (thanks for the tip, Paula!). Ina swears that butter under the skin keeps it juicy.

Then, in order to free my oven for sausage stuffed mushrooms (recipe here), mashed potatoes (made with cream cheese, butter and sour cream!) and roasted butternut squash, I roasted the turkey, sans foil, in my electric roaster (method here). This is where it went wrong. The turkey came out flavorful, as the gravy revealed. Must have been that onion, garlic and thyme shoved into the turkey. And the dry brine; that's the way to go! But juicy it was not. Not dry, just not as fall off the bone as the foil wrapped low 'n' slow process of my mom's. What a dissapointment!!!! I was so upset with myself all during dinner for thinking I could improve a meal that didn't need improving. I'm also mad at Ina for tempting me to stray with her promises of  turkey perfection. Maybe you think I'm being harsh and/or dramatic, but with the amount of butter and other fats I use in the above menu, I only eat it once a year. Now I have to wait a really long time (like a decade in stomach years) to do it all over, but no changing a classic next time.

Roasted Butternut Squash is a great alternative to sickly sweet potatoes with marshmallows on top. Hmm, that actually sounds pretty good.

Ina suggests serving sausage stuffed mushrooms instead of stuffing, which dries out the bird. These were the HIGHLIGHT of the meal. They'd also make a great appetizer.