High Desert Home Sickness

I've got a secret to share. I'm a little homesick, for Gallup New Mexico. I'm sitting here at work, and my phone rings. It was my sister-in-law back in Gallup. We chatted for awhile, she updated me on all of the exciting things going on out there. It was a short list.

Then I just happened upon Miss Rhonda's blog, and my twitch of homesickness turned into a full-blown twang. Right now, at this very moment, I wish I was in Gallup. Scoff if you must.

I've always been a wanderer. After leaving PA at the age of 19 to explore the west, I didn't really expect to ever live here again. Don't get me wrong, I love PA. Especially now, when it's warm. There's a lot to see and do. Idlewild. Kennywood. Delgrosso Park. Hershey's. Primanti Brothers. Sheetz. Erie. Gettysburg. Steelers. Penguins. Pirates. (even when they're not winning.) If you live here, you get it. My husband, a native New Mexican, has and it didn't take long. "Jag-off" is part of his daily vocabulary. If you don't know what that means, look it up online. It's pretty funny. Folks in Western PA have their own accent and language, a fact unbeknown to many outside of this area.

On the other hand, if you live in Gallup, you get it, too. Jerry's. Earl's. Cattle guards. Turquoise. Culture. Red Rocks. Hot air balloons. Window Rock. Pottery. McGaffey. Prairie Dogs. The train. Pointing with your lips. Blake's. Green chilie. Route 66. Arabs. All-sups. Gloneys. (Kidding, ya'll.)

I think part of what I miss about good 'ol Gallup is the pace of living. Funny how when we lived there, it drove me nuts. Time does almost seem to stand still, and in this day and age that's pretty impressive if you ask me. Not in a sense that Gallup is backward or non-progressive. It's more of a mental thing. People just move at their own pace, which is often pretty slow. Being an east coast transplant, it was something I had to learn. When you live somewhere on a day-to-day basis, perhaps you overlook little things.

Gallup and the surrounding area has its own uniqueness- a sort of rough, barren, untouched beauty. It's windy, but dry and pleasant most of the year. The sun always seems to shine. I remember I loved the drive to Window Rock. PA is overcast and hazy most of the time. And humid.

Years ago, I wondered if my east coast roots would ever call me home. Now I wonder in my western dreams will ever lead me back. Right now it seems doubtful, as we are quite content with things here. I can't imagine raising my son anywhere else, but I also don't want to lose touch with the place that was his first home.

Shortly after I moved to Gallup someone told me never to drink the water there because once you do you will always return if you leave. I drank the water, so let's see what happens.

Berries In Bloom

While I haven't any wild flowers growing where I've tried my hand at planting, I've got a lot of blackberries sprouting up in the wooded area beside our house that I didn't have last year. See how pretty?And tasty. TJ still has stained fingers from all the juice. I'm not sure what these are, but I am certain that they are not edible. They're everywhere in the backyard. It's a pretty shrub, so I thought I'd share.
And I don't know what these flowers are, I didn't have any last year either, but I've been picking bouquet after bouquet to make pretty little arrangement for the dining room table. It seems like for every one I pick, two more sprout up in a few days, so I just keep on picking!

Recipe of the Week; BEANS, BEANS THE MAGICAL FRUIT!

Here's a little poem about beans I wrote:

Beans, beans so easy to cook!

Scroll down through this post, and just take a look!

From pinto to navy, black beans to white,

You'll find any kind of bean for your dinner tonight!

Impressed, are you? So few foods inspire me to wax poetic, but beans... well there is something special about them. Even Jack used one to grow his magical beanstalk!

Why my sudden interest in beans? There are a few reasons. I have to credit Jamie Oliver for the inspiration for this recipe post. While I'm offering my gratitude to Mr. Oliver, I suppose I better also say thanks to the folks and Bean-o as well. (My husband thanks you, too.)

The other night I just couldn't sleep. I was tossing and turning, and to keep my husband from kicking me out of the bed, I got up and went downstairs to lay on the couch. I flipped on the tube (the utmost of my enemies) and I started watching the Cooking Channel. Have you seen it yet? So far, I like it. They have Jamie Oliver! Oh how I've missed him since his departure from the Food Network!

I've always been quite fascinated with Jamie At Home, and what do you know- there he was, at home and cooking with dried beans! "Humble", he called them. He slow cooked-soaked beans with a bunch of herbs, he says is with the "H". I think I'll start to as well. Cheerio!

So, thank you Jamie, for reminding me just how refreshing humble beans can be. He also doesn't pronounce the "H" in "humble. "Umble beans with Herbs." Go on, say it with your best British accent. Fun, isn't it? Those Brits- I love 'em.

Another reason for posting a recipe for beans is because they are a great, any season comfort food. Soaked beans can be cooked in the crock-pot, which is my best friend when it's too hot to turn on the oven.

Additionally, I ate a lot of beans growing up. (That explains a lot!) Mom grew them, mainly green and yellow string beans. She makes a killer green bean soup with potatoes and sour cream, I will certainly post that recipe during "bean-picking"season, which us around August.

Mom would also buy dried beans by the bushel, I remember walking through the old Amish country stores filling up little paper sacks with scoops of different kinds of beans. I love to run my hand through a bin of dried beans. Do it sometime.

One of my favorite dinners growing up was a simple Lima bean dish. She would slow-cook a big pot of large, Lima beans all day. (If she was in a rush, she'd open some canned beans and heat them through. I think they're typically referred to as butter beans. They'll certainly suffice in a pinch.) The only trick to this dish is you have to have homemade white bread. Store bought simply won't do.

Lay a slice of buttered bread on a plate, ladle a scoop of warm cooked beans right over the bread. If you're really feeling dangerous, squirt just a little ketchup over the beans. It may sound odd to some, but I would prefer this over a fussy four-course dinner through the week any time. If only my husband wasn't such a meat-a-tarian, I'd make this a few times a month, for sure!

Well, without further adieu, I bring you Mr. Oliver's Humble Home-Cooked Bean recipe, in his own words:

INGREDIENTS

11 ounces dried cranberry or cannelloni beans, soaked in cold water for at least 12 hours*

3 cloves garlic, unpeeled

a few sprigs of thyme

s sprig of fresh rosemary

3 bay leaves

1 stick of celery, trimmed

1 small potato, peeled and halved

one small to medium sized tomato

extra-virgin olive oil

red wine vinegar

a few sprigs of fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped

4 slices sourdough bread

12 scallops

12 slices pancetta or bacon

skewers, or fresh rosemary sprigs

lemon

Drain the soaked beans, then give them a good wash. Place them in a deep pot and cover with cold water. Throw in the garlic (whole), herb sprigs, bay leaves, celery stick, potato and tomato. Place the beans on the heat and slowly bring to a boil. Cover and simmer very gently for 45 minutes to an hour, until soft and cooked nicely. Skim if necessary, topping up with boiling water from a kettle if needed.

When beans are cooked, drain them in colander, reserving enough of the cooking water to cover them halfway up wen put back in the pot. Remove garlic, herbs, celery, potato and tomato from the beans. Squeeze the garlic cloves out of their skins and pinch the skin off the tomato. Put the garlic, tomato, and potato on a place, mash them with a fork and stir them back into the beans. Season well with a little salt and pepper, and pour three generous glugs** of extra-virgin olive oil and a few splashes of vinegar. Stir in the parsley and serve on some toasted sourdough bread.

Wrap a slice of the pancetta or bacon around each scallop. Thread them onto a skewer or sturdy sprig of rosemary and fry them on each side in a little olive oil until golden. Spoon the delicious warm home-cooked beans onto your plate and top with the scallops. Serve with a fresh squeeze of lemon, a drizzle of olive oil and any juices from the pan. Brilliant!

*Cranberry beans may be known by several names. In Italy, they are called borlotti, and New Englanders may refer to them as shell beans. They've also been referred to as French horticultural beans.

**Your guess is as good as mine when it comes to a "glug" measurement. Remember, I borrowed this recipe from Jamie Oliver. If I had to guess, I say maybe about the tablespoon? Yeah, that sounds like a glug to me.

News Flash!

Just a quick announcement I'm excited to share... as if two blogs were not enough, I currently have a third under construction, hopefully to go public in July. It's actually not for me, per se.

See, Todd has been bustin' butt the last several months as he's once again joined the ranks of America's entrepreneurs and is self-employed. Scary thought considering today's economy, I suppose, but we believe what the Bible tells us about reaping and sowing, not to mention the favor of His people who are obedient to Him. I can testify that God is true to His word, Todd has certainly found favor and he's doing better in five months than he's done in the previous twelve!

He's got quite a lot to be proud of, not to mention showcase to folks in the Pittsburgh area, so I'm working on uploading a lot of pictures, marketing information, quotes from clients and so forth.

Stay tuned...

Recipe of the Week; A SIMPLE CAKE FOR A SIMPLE DAD

I've asked my husband repeatedly this past week if he wanted anything in particular baked for Father's Day.

ME: "How about a nice berry tart?"

HIM: "Naw."

ME: "Crepes? With the apricot and mascarpone filling? You loved those!"

HIM: "Naw."

ME: "Something gooey and chocolaty with peanut butter?"

HIM: "Naw."

ME: "I know! Key Lime Pie! It's great this time of year!"

HIM: "Hmmm.... naw."

ME: (getting frustrated) "Well then, what???"

HIM: "Surprise me."

ME: "Errrrrrrr...."

So, as always I considered the season and what is appropriate this time of year. Berries and fruit desserts are always my first choice when it comes to baking anything in the summer months.

I started thumbing through some of my favorite cook books, when a slip of paper with a handwritten recipe from my Dad's wife slipped out. A few years ago, I was visiting and she had just pulled a dump cake out of the oven. I asked "What did you call this cake?" To which she replied, "Oh, just a simple dump cake." Hers was a yellow cake with cherry pie filling.

Might not sound so appealing, but she was right, it's SIMPLE. And yummy. And versatile. A simple cake for Dad, that my son can make for him all by himself!

Like I said, the warmer weather makes my mouth water for fruits and berries, and after careful deliberation with TJ, we decided that a Peach Dump Cake is in order for Father's Day. I certainly hope he is surprised.

INGREDIENTS

1 large can peaches, do not drain

1 box cake mix, lemon, yellow or pecan

2 sticks butter, melted

1 cup coconut

1 cup chopped nuts, optional

Spray 9" x 13" glass cake pan with non-stick spray.

Layer the peaches with their juice, cake mix, coconut, nuts and melted butter in a 9" x 13" pan. It's a dump cake, so remember not to stir. Just throw it all in, spreading the ingredients out as you go.

Bake at 350 degrees for 60 minutes.

Cracker Barrel Done Made Me Mad

Yesterday was my birthday. In the great tradition of birthdays for Moms, the question of the day was "What do you want for dinner"? In other words, "Even though it's your birthday, it's no fun to go out to dinner alone, so it looks like TJ and I will be tagging along. But you get to pick where, after all it's your birthday."

I do cook dinner at home just about every night. So, it's a nice change to go out for dinner somewhere through the middle of the week. There are several "non-chain" restaurants locally that I've been wanting to try, but I had a hankering for Cracker Barrel.

Now let me tell you, when I lived in New Mexico, my friend Dyan and I would eat lunch there every Thursday. We were bored housewives then, so a few hours at the Barrel was always a welcome reprieve, and on Thursday they served their delicious tortilla soup. Couple that with a glass of their sweet tea and some biscuits, and it was a simple lunch in an environment we both felt so at home in. Who doesn't feel at home in a place with a deer head and a rifle, right? I don't even need to mention that my husband built the fireplace in the store in Gallup, New Mexico, do I? Oh, I guess I just did.

So, I decided that Cracker Barrel sounded like just the ticket for a quiet Tuesday evening dinner out. I haven't been to one since I moved to Pennsylvania over two years ago. I wished I would have made another choice.

I've always enjoyed meandering in the little store, in fact I have several serving dishes and little odds and ends that I've picked up there through the years. Either their store merchandise has changed nationally, or I accidentally walked into a Toys 'R Us and didn't know it. All this particular stores' shelves where stocked with cheap, replica vintage toys and candy. And when I say cheap, I mean cheaply made, as a sack of 10 marbles was a great buy at $9.99. Umm, no thanks.

But I was hungry and had my mind focused on biscuits and cornbread, so the monkeys in a barrel and cap guns didn't matter.

The menu was relatively the same, the chicken and dumplings, the meatloaf, turnip greens, etc. were all still there. And our waitress, a perky older lady name Reba, was very sweet and attentive.

I ordered the sampler, which included chicken and dumplings, meatloaf, and country ham. I'll make this very simple. I think I have a pair of shoes that are softer to chew on than that ham. The mushy dumplings were more like tasteless baby food, and the burnt little piece of meatloaf had so much ketchup on it, I mistook it for a hamburger without the bun. And my okra... eeww. That pretty much sums up my whole dinner, as well as my husband and TJ's.

Normally if I'm dissatisfied at a restaurant, I make no bones about having my dinner recooked. This time, however, I just wanted to get out of there. Cracker Barrel ruined my birthday.

I'm tempted to call their comment line, but for what? So they can send me a coupon to eat there again free? I'd rather they send me a coupon to somewhere I would want to eat.

The lousy dinner aside, I did quite enjoy my birthday. I had a donut and a gift card for Target on my desk at work from my employee, Chris. (We have a donut joke at the office.) Todd hooked me up with an awesome new CD player and speakers in my car, along with some CD's I've been wanting. TJ was so proud when I opened his strawberry Topsy-Turvey gift.

Anyway, if you are wondering what Cracker Barrel specifically I'm referring to, please leave me a comment with your email address and I will give you the location. I'm not going to publicly humiliate this restaurant, but I'm also not going to be shy in telling ya'll that Cracker Barrel done made me mad.

Music to My Ears!

You may remember a few months back when I blogged about my favorite movies. Then recently I blogged about how I've taken an oath to stop watching TV all together. Total contradiction, I know.

Well, in it's place I have been regularly tuned in to my first love, which is MUSIC! Like books, music has always played an important role in my life as a child. For starters, my Dad was a musician, so whether I liked it or not, there was always something blaring from the stereo, be it Badfinger or Bach.

I've decided to blog today about all of the music, the glorious music, that I love and different songs that have touched my little world in a personal way.

I'm grateful that I had such exposure to different genres of music since, well, birth. I think I was born with Love Will Keep us Together playing in the background, and I swear that Toni Tennille was the inspiration for my name. Good thing it wasn't Strawberry Alarm Clock or the Flying Burrito Brothers on the radio that day. My name could have been Strawberry or Burrito.

The music of choice for my parents was usually pop, rock and R & B from the 70's and 80's, except for Saturday nights when we would have to listen to Solid Gold Saturday Night, which played wonderful be-bop and Motown from the 50's into the 60's. Sundays were reserved for Polkas, where I remember Mom dancing around in the kitchen showing us the proper way to Polka, all the while Dad would roll his eyes, and say "Puh-lease".

But contemporary pop and Polkas weren't the only thing. A trip down the road to my Grandparents home meant Pap would pull out his Gibson and strum a little twangy country, (usually Willie Nelson or Johnny Cash) and Grandma was forever singing her hymns. To this day I list The Battle Hymn of the Republic as one of my all-time favorite songs, of any genre.

My Dad also had a thing for not just the Beatles, but great artists like Frank Sinatra and James Brown. I too am a huge fan of Paul, John, George and Ringo. When my son was born, I didn't sing him the usual lullabies, it was Beautiful Boy (solo John Lennon) that lulled him to sleep. He's six now, and I still sing a verse or two at bedtime.

One year for Christmas I got my first stereo, complete with turntable for all of my awesome Madonna and Huey Lewis albums, and Dad just had to try it out. The first record he grabbed was a 45 of James Brown's I Feel Good, so oddly enough anytime I hear that song I automatically relate it to Christmas morning.

And Christmas... oh it's not just a season of giving but a season of listening. How I adore Christmas music, my favorites are I Saw Three Ships and Do You Hear What I Hear? And I can't let a Christmas pass without breaking out The Brian Setzer Orchestra's Christmas Rocks CD.

I played- no, let me rephrase that- I pretended I could play the clarinet in school. (Give me a break, it was an easy credit...) My band directer, Mr. Walker, was awesome. He exposed me to the likes of John Philip Sousa and Ravel (I still get goosebumps any time I hear Bolero. I really wished I could play the clarinet, I would LOVE to have been able to play that solo.) Classical music as a whole is wonderful, and although perhaps I don't indulge myself often, I've got a few CD's in my shelves that might surprise some. And the Gershwins- yeah George and Ira are in there, too.

And Hair Bands. Oh my gosh don't even get me started. Just the other day I took out my Ultimate Power Ballads CD and reminisced. Eventually the hair got a little lower, and Grunge became the next hottest thing, but I can't say it was music that I really ever got into. Somewhere I have a Silverchair CD, but that's about it.

In the early 90's, I admit that I rode the Billy Ray Cyrus bandwagon for awhile. Some may be hesitant to make that confession, but honestly I remember some really great country music songs coming from that part of the decade. Billy Ray excluded, but oh how I still love me some Dwight Yoakum. And the Dixie Chicks.

As I got older, I found myself preferring the music of my youth, which was really the music of my parent's youth, a little more enjoyable than most of the pop/techno/rap that was popular then. A certain Val Kilmer movie made me pull out my Dad's old Doors albums and give them another listen, and at about 14 I decided Jim Morrison was the coolest human being ever to walk the earth. (Until later, when I heard Harry Connick Jr. sing, but I'll get into that in a minute). I still love the Doors, and while I no longer have a big poster of them hanging on my bedroom door, you'll find one of their CD's in my changer pretty much always.

When I started dating my husband, I was re-introduced to a lot of music from he 60's through the eighties that I'd heard a lot growing up, but until I heard it from his perspective, it became so much more meaningful and pertinent. Bands like the Temptations and Commodores; yes my Dad had all of their albums too, but seeing the way Todd relates to old Motown is just somehow... different. And once you've seen him and Craig and Brad lip sync while dancing simultaneously to Papa Was a Rolling Stone, well, you just don't know what you're missing.

Moving on, sometime in my early to mid twenties, I heard Harry Connick Jr, and I can't even pinpoint which song from what album, but I feel in L-O-V-E. With Harry himself a little, (unfortunately we're both married) but experiencing his music was an altogether different experience. So much so that in 2002 I dragged my friend Kevin (a talented pianist in his own right) to Harry's show at the Dodge Theatre in Phoenix, and three weeks later my reluctant husband and I flew to Pittsburgh for his show at the Benedum Center. It was his Songs I Heard tour, and although I've got 'em all, this CD is one of the best Harry's ever done.

Billie Holiday also has her grips on my cochlea, and if I ever decide to make a mix-tape for my husband, Them There Eyes would have to be on it, right after All My Life by K-Ci and Jo Jo which is actually our song. Awe. Yep, he even sang it too me on our first anniversary. Well, I admit we both were a little drunk and he slurred his way through the chorus. But it was a precious moment.

Aside from Lady Day, I adore music from the early part of the century. I love the digital music channel on TV that plays songs from the 40's- who doesn't want to pucker up and kiss a sailor when the likes of Glenn Miller comes on? The 40's channel is my favorite music to mellow out to- I'll light some candles, drink something alcoholic and fruity, and just totally relax. Try doing that with Snoop Dogg bumping in the background... it doesn't work.

Speaking of Snoop, (Why does he carry an umbrella? For the drizzle- yo!) I'm not so much a frequent listener of rap, but I'm willing to blast my Nelly CD's any day of the week. Nelly and Tim McGraw, now that's a collaboration!

The list of music I don't enjoy is considerably shorter than that which I do, and here it is: Neil Diamond. Pink Floyd. Buster Poindexter. Two Live Crew. UB 40. Brittany Spears. Pink Floyd especially makes me want to shove an ice pick into my ear drums.

Lately, I've been wearing out Diane Birch and Jackson Brown, and my six-year old insists on listening to Michael Jackson at any opportunity. There's an awful lot of unnecessary crotch-grabbing dance moves that goes on in my house.

Music can set my mood, too. A certain song can remind me of something funny, like my aforementioned friend Kevin's and my version of Who Let the Dogs Out. I can't hear that song or Girl From Ipanema and not think of Kevin. A song can blow the dust off some old high school memory, I'm particularly attached to What Might Have Been by Little Texas for that very reason.

To sum up this post, I believe that music is gift from God to us all. Some are talented to play an instrument, sing, arrange, produce and so on. The rest of us benefit from their talents. I've never been one to listen to music just because it's what's "in" at the moment. Like in high school- [everyone loved] Technotronic as they Pumped Up the Jam, but I was jamming to Hall and Oates. I didn't care. Those boys got some serious soul.

It's important to me as a mother to pass the importance to music on to my son. I don't really care what he listens to, I let him pick. And at six the boy's already got some great taste- he loves Lenny Kravitz and John Mellencamp.

So music, I say play it often! I've always got it on at work, in the car, at home... you get it. Now go turn some on!!