My Favorite Things

Raindrops on roses, and whiskers on kittens. Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens. These may have been a few of Maria’s favorite things from “The Sound of Music”, but mine are a little bit different. Every once in a while, I thought I would use one of my posts to share a few of my favorite things here and explain why I just can’t live without them. Hey, if it’s good enough for Oprah to share her favorite things it should be good enough for me! Unfortunately, unlike Oprah, I won't be able to give everyone in my "audience" one of these. Maybe some day.

Enameled Cast Iron Pots

I love these pots. I have three of them (pictured here). And, believe it or not, I’m eyeing up a fourth. These pots are great for cooking just about anything. They are my favorite soup pots, make a superb pot roast, are great for braising, deep frying or just boiling up a pot of spaghetti.  

The reason cast iron is so great to use is because it distributes the heat evenly throughout the entire pot. Because of this, the handles will get hot too. And as a benefit of this even heating the items in the middle of the pot will cook the same as the items on the edges of the pot.  

Also, the lids are heavy; well, actually the entire pot is heavy. But, having a heavy lid seals the pot when you are braising. It keeps the juices and steam in your pot. Trust me, you’ll appreciate that when you have a spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove and notice no splatters on your stovetop. You’ll also appreciate it when you are braising something in the oven and the inside of your oven is not filled with splatters from a loose lid on a less expensive and lighter dutch oven.

Just a few things you should be aware of when owning pots of this type. Don’t use metal utensils in/on these because it will scratch the surface. I only use wood or silicone spoons and spatulas. When you wash them, dry them right away. Remember, these are cast iron and there is a bit of the cast iron along the rim that has not been covered with enamel (on the lid too). If left to air dry, it could rust. So I always towel dry mine right away, and then set them out to completely air dry before I put the lid on and put them away.

This particular brand that I own is Le Creuset. They come in a whole rainbow of colors and sizes. My three pots are a 4-½ quart round french oven, 6-¾ quart oval french oven, and a 1-½ qt. braiser. The only downfall I can say about them is that they are expensive!  However, sometimes you can find them on sale at the big department stores like Macy’s or at the outlet stores.  

I always watch the sales around the holidays and that’s usually when I buy my cooking equipment. Usually stores like Macy’s have really good deals on one or two items to get you in the door during the holidays. I remember I bought my food processor on sale at Macy’s right before Christmas and it was a fabulous deal. Walked in the door, down the stairs to the kitchen department, bought my food processor, and left the store. Bought my KitchenAid mixer the same way. Plus, you can use your in-store coupons to get even a better deal.  

There are other brands of these pots out there that are more budget-friendly. I haven’t tried them and don’t know how their performance is over the long haul, but I’m guessing that they are very good substitutes for the Le Creuset brand. Even so, I’m sticking with Le Creuset and am saving my pennies for my next one.

So the next time you’re in the market for a new dutch oven, give one of these enameled cast iron pots a try. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed.

Happy cooking!!

Signs from God

I was watching the old TV series "The West Wing" the other night and in one episode (Season 1, Episode 14, "Take this Sabbath Day") there was a story similar to the following:

There was a man who lived by a river. He heard a radio report that the river was going to rush up and flood the town.  Everyone in the town was evacuating except this man. A town official came up to the man and said, “Why are you not leaving? The flood waters are going to come and you will be killed.  Come with me and I will get you away from here.” 

The man said, “I am a religious man. I will pray to be saved and God will answer my prayer.”

A while later as the flood waters surrounded the man’s house a man in a rowboat came by.“Quickly, come and get in my rowboat and I will get you to safety!” 

“No,” said the man. “I am a religious man. I will pray to be saved and God will answer my prayer.”

As the man’s house was about to be consumed by the flood waters a helicopter came to the man’s rescue. “Let me drop down this ladder,” the pilot said, “and you can climb up to safety!” 

“No,” said the man. “I am a religious man.  I will pray to be saved and God will answer my prayer.”

The man drowned.  

As he came to the gates of St. Peter the man demanded an audience with God. “Lord, I am a religious man, I prayed. I thought you loved me. Why didn’t you save me?” the man asked. 

God replied, “My child, I sent you a town official, a man in a rowboat and a man in a helicopter.  What the hell are you doing here?”

If only we could have the gift of foresight instead of the wisdom of hindsight.  How many times have we gone through some trial in our lives only to realize after it's all over that God's fingerprints were all over the choices that we made or the opportunities we passed up? 

One of my favorite movies, "Out of Africa", has a line in it which is a quote from Isak Dinesen. It says, "God made the world round so we would never be able to see too far down the road."  What would we change if we could see the future?

In a previous post I wrote about listening for God's voice.  But how do we discern signs from God?

When I was going through the process of looking at houses to buy I asked God to give me a sign as to which one would be the perfect house for me.  I asked Him for the sign to be a lilac bush, as that is my favorite flower. I figured if the house had a lilac bush on the property then I would know it would be a good house for me.

When I found the house I eventually bought, I did see a "sign"; however, it wasn't the one I asked for. This sign was a painting hanging in the living room that was exactly the same as one we had in the living room of the house I grew up in. I immediately knew that this was my sign. Not surprisingly, there's not a single lilac bush on the property.

Looking for signs reminds me of the old forest-and-the-trees reference. Sometimes when you are going through trials you can't see the forest for the trees.  You can't see there is a solution because you are so mired down in the problem. You have to step back to be able to get yourself thinking clearly again. What a better way to clear our thoughts than by meditating or praying. We have to give up that tendency we all have to try to control everything. Once we give up that control, turn it over to God, a solution will usually present itself.

We can't dictate to God what our "signs" should be. I believe that God always wants us to be searching for Him.  If He told us what the signs were going to be, and if we knew where to look, we wouldn't be searching any more. More than anything, I believe that God always wants us to be searching for Him in everything.  Not just during the bad times, but during the good times too.

There are signs of God everywhere.  In the beautiful, puffy clouds that are outside my window today. In the miracle of Spring. In the slowpoke driver in front of us that stops us from getting a speeding ticket. In the video on Facebook that reminds us that there is still a lot of good left in humanity out there. In the realization that the circle of life is of such a great gift it could have only come from our Creator.

Keep a watchful eye out for your signs from God.  You never know where they might pop up; even if it's just God's way of saying, "Hi".

Karl Malden tells the "man by the river" story in the link below better than I have above. Enjoy!

Blessed are the Weak

I was searching through Facebook the other day and came upon this little saying:

"Don't ever mistake my silence for ignorance,

my calmness for acceptance,

and my kindness for weakness."

I am a strong, silent type. I know that is a description that is normally associated with men, but that's really how I would describe myself.  Steady, calm, kind. The problem with being the strong, silent type is you are normally seen as uncaring, or unemotional, or worst of all, a ... well ... b-word.

Have you heard the expression, "still waters run deep"?  Well, my "waters" make the Mariana Trench look like a ditch. I may be still on the outside, but like an iceberg, there's much more underneath the surface.

I don't show my emotions very well except for one: anger. I can honestly say that when anger rears it's ugly head I can see why the b-word comes to mind. But it takes a lot to get me angry. I can shoulder a lot of grief, a lot of sadness, a lot of hassles, a lot of stress, before my calm facade finally cracks.

It's funny how one little saying can bring out so much emotion in one who is normally not emotional. These words ring in my ears as a window to my soul, or a warning to the enemy.

My silence is not ignorance. It is the calm reflection of what my reaction should be. It is a listening ear to hear all the facts before I make my decision as to how I should react. It is keeping my mouth shut so I don't say something I regret or make a fool out of myself. And just because I'm not calling you out on your actions, doesn't mean I'm not watching you and don't know what you are up to.

My calmness is not acceptance. It is an external facade. It is maintaining control of my emotions on the outside while I fall apart on the inside. Just because I'm not screaming at the top of my lungs, "YOU ARE WRONG," doesn't mean I accept what you have done to hurt me. My calmness is the illusion of strength, even though sometimes I would love to be weak. But I don't ever get to be weak. Or do I?

My kindness is not weakness. My kindness is what makes me human. My kindness is a hope that someone will see me being kind or be the benefactor of my kindness, and will pass it on to someone else. Kindness is so simple, yet it is something with which today's society seems to have a problem. Why is it so difficult for people to be kind to other people?  I think it's because they think it makes them look weak.

If being kind makes me look weak, then weak I will be.  Most of you have probably heard this verse from the Beatitudes in the bible: "Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth." (Matthew 5:5) Maybe it should read, "Blessed are the weak, for they will inherit the earth."

We may look weak in your eyes, but in the Spirit of the Beatitudes, it is in weakness that we are made strong. It is in weakness that we show our humanness. It is in weakness that we strive for sanctification. And, most importantly, it is in weakness that we are brought closer to God.

I Am Woman Hear Me Roar

About a year ago I was having a conversation with my masseuse when we got on the topics of weight loss, working out, and sleeping.  I was frustrated because the sleeping pills that I had been taking for years were suddenly not working and I was exhausted.  I have always had a hard time sleeping.  In addition, I was working out like a fiend and not seeing any weight loss for my efforts.  I had been stuck at this same weight for so long and no matter what I tried, I could not get the scale to budge.

She gave me the name of a doctor she had been seeing who was helping her with hormone therapy. More specifically, bio-identical hormone therapy. Bio-identical hormones are tailored to a person’s specific needs. Instead of a wide-spectrum hormone that gives you an average range of hormones, these are made just for me. They are also natural hormones, not synthetic. I made an appointment with this doctor and went in for a consultation.  

The first thing the nurse had me do was take an inventory of my symptoms. I was handed a sheet with three columns on it, full of symptoms. I checked almost every one. Then after the nurse took down my blood pressure and my weight and height, I was able to sit down with the doctor. She talked to me about what symptoms I was having and ordered some blood to be drawn. After she got the results we would meet again and go over what her prescribed course of action would be.

When we next met the results of my tests were reviewed. Basically, my serotonin levels we really low, cholesterol high, and my body didn’t know whether it was a man or a woman. She was not at all surprised that I was checking almost all the boxes on the symptom sheet. The doctor prescribed two hormones along with 5-HTP for my serotonin levels and a few supplements for my cholesterol.  

At my next visit six weeks later my numbers had made good progress in correcting both my levels of hormones and serotonin. I had already weaned myself off of my sleep medication and was getting much better sleep. I wasn’t completely where I wanted to be so my doctor made one correction. I followed up with her three months later.

At this next visit, my doctor congratulated me and told me I was once again a woman! My hormone levels had corrected themselves and I was no longer androgynous. I still wasn’t sleeping through the night, however, so she just increased the dose of one of the hormones.

Now, three months later, I can say that I am sleeping like a baby, feel like a million bucks, have greater muscle tone (are those abs under there?!?), and have actually lost a few pounds. Everyone I see asks me if I’ve lost weight. I haven’t really lost that much but my clothes are fitting much looser.  

The biggest difference since starting these treatments:  I’m happy. My girlfriend and I used to call that the “H” word; like it was something we could never attain. I never, EVER, could have made it through the last year without being on hormones. I would have been a mess and probably would have killed someone by now! Plus all my “systems” are working better, you know what I mean? My digestive tract is functioning again, my brain works better, I have lots of energy, my skin is not as dry, and my singing voice is better than it’s ever been.  

Now, I’m not a doctor so I can’t tell you what’s right for you. But if you’re frustrated with your doctors because you tell them about all these symptoms and they say to you, “Well, you know, you are getting older,” tell them to stick-it-where-the-sun-don’t-shine and go see someone who can evaluate your hormones. Men too. They are discovering quite a lot about men’s hormone problems too.  

Think about it. People only used to live until they were 40. They didn’t have to deal with getting older and fading hormone levels, or even menopause because people just didn’t live long enough to go through it! There’s no reason why you should have to suffer, as I was, any longer.

Sing with me ladies:  “I am woooooooooo-man!  Double-you oooooohhhhhh M-A-N!

You Are Not My Enemy

Remember that old book, “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus”?  I can remember reading that book when I was much younger and it made complete sense.  At the time, I was trying to figure out men.  But what I have learned over the years is that there is beauty in having someone understand what it’s like to be a woman.

Throughout my years I have learned the value of having girlfriends.  There’s nothing like having a conversation with someone who understands where you’re coming from and accepts you no matter what.  For years, I used to think that women were the enemy.  I thought they were competition and couldn’t be befriended.  I have learned over the years that we all share a common goal:  to try to survive on this earth alongside men.

It’s not that men are really all so terrible, it’s just that they don’t understand us. Wouldn’t life just be so much easier, girls, if men could understand what it’s like to live inside these female bodies? If they could understand what it's like to make decisions based on emotions instead of pure logic? If they knew what it felt like to have hormones control our lives every 28 days?

Recently, I made contact with a girlfriend that I had not seen in a while.  It was SO good to see her and I had missed her so much!  We started chatting and it was like the long absence never happened. I have that same phenomenon with a girlfriend from high school.  We may not see each other for years at a time, but when we are together, it’s like old times and we are comfortable with each other and can talk about anything.

At one point in my life most of my girlfriends were married and had little kids. They were so busy with their lives that they didn’t have enough time for me. I prayed to God for a girlfriend that could share all my current interests and be my confidante and He presented me with my girlfriend, Colleen. Colleen and I swear that we knew each other in a previous life, because after we met it was like we were never apart.

As I got older I also noticed that I had learned how to talk to women and have an instant connection. The other day I was in a shoe store looking longingly at the sandals and pretty new neon sneakers when I said to a woman there, “Do you ever think we will be able to wear normal shoes again?”  She said, “Oh, I know. I’m so sick of wearing these boots.”  You see, a man wouldn’t understand that comment.  I knew what she meant. She knew what I meant. Instantly.

I have begun to cherish all these little, seemingly insignificant moments with strangers that bind us together and help us get through this life.  These moments can happen anywhere:  at the deli department of the grocery store, standing in line at Panera, or in the locker room at the gym. They help me to realize that I am not going through this life alone and, especially, that I am not invisible.

So here’s a toast to all you women out there!  Thanks for helping me get through this life surrounded by all these Martians.

Bob the Jeep

Years ago I bought a used 1996 Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo.  It was three years old when I got it and I have never owned a car this long in my life.  I’m usually a pretty fickle car owner and change cars about once every three or four years.  Actually, I’ve owned this car longer than I was married … in both marriages … combined.

Buddy riding in Bob

This Jeep took us on road trips to Florida one year, and then over to Montana another.  It’s been to Disney World, the Kennedy Space Center, Yellowstone Park, and Mount Rushmore.  It’s been over the Appalachian mountains on one side of the country and over the Rockies on the other. I used it to cart my big dog, Buddy, around town which filled the Jeep with dog hair and made it smell like dog feet.

Once I had this Jeep paid off I kept it around even after I purchased another vehicle because I knew my son was approaching driving age and I thought it would be a great vehicle for him.  I loved the fact that it is a four wheel drive vehicle and I knew that it would keep my son safe.

And keep him safe it did.  Even after my son ran into a parked car while reaching for something on the floor of the Jeep, we got it fixed up and it still ran great.  The other car?  It looked like an accordion because it hit a telephone pole in the front while my son plowed into it in the back.  Luckily enough the insurance company thought it was worth fixing up and it was back in service.

My son decided that this Jeep needed a name, so it became affectionately known as “Bob”.

To say that Bob “survived” my son is an understatement.  While backing Bob out of the garage, my son managed to rip off the front headlight and crack the grill.  Then there was the aforementioned accident.  Then after that my son overheated the engine -- twice.  Admittedly the leaking radiator was at fault. The last overheating was almost Bob’s undoing.

Eventually we bought my son a newer, smaller, more fuel efficient car, and Bob limped into retirement.  My ex-husband decided he could fix Bob which began my education in the inner-workings of a gas combustion engine.  I helped pull the engine out (several times), put new rings on the pistons, replaced countless hoses, pumps and pulleys, dropped the oil pan (several times again) and had the dash off.  Eventually, we got Bob back together again and he ran well -- for a Jeep with almost 200,000 miles on it and one teenage boy in his past.

Bob doesn’t do much anymore, but I still love this car.  He gets to go out on weekends for trips to the dog park and gets me safely to church when there is lots of snow.  He’s got a few quirks:  the dash lights aren’t very bright anymore, the back windshield wiper works but it doesn’t touch the glass anymore, and he doesn’t have the smoothest of starts, but he runs great once he’s warmed up.  It’s a great car for when you want to haul plants from the garden center because you don’t have to worry about getting the carpeting in the back muddy. Bob will get you through any big snow storm thanks to these new awesome tires I bought a few years back, but he doesn’t really like the cold, cold weather anymore.

Nowadays, Bob sits in the garage with a trickle charger on his battery, keeping him safe and warm and well-rested.  I still can’t bring myself to get rid of him as he has been a part of my life for so long, but I know eventually he will go to that big junk yard in the sky.   

But not just yet.

See you at the dog park?   Bob, Ellie and I will be there this weekend.

The Best Tuna Salad Recipe

One of my favorite things to have for lunch is an open-faced tuna salad sandwich.  In fact, it's so good I decided to share the recipe with you. Here goes.

Here are all the ingredients you will need:

1 can tuna, drained
1 rib celery, chopped
1/4 cup onion, chopped
3 or 4 small dill pickles, chopped
1 tsp. capers
1/3 cup mayo
1/2 tsp. celery seed
1/2 tsp. Italian Herb Mix
1/2 tsp. brown mustard seed
1/3 cup cheese (your choice)

Place celery, onion and pickles in a bowl; or you can do what I do and put them in big pieces into one of these handy-dandy food choppers.

Chop up the ingredients and it will look something like this:

Next add the tuna, mayo, capers, celery seed, Italian Herb mix, and brown mustard seed. 

Mix everything up really well. It should look like this:

Once mixed toast up a piece of whole wheat, whole grain bread. Place bread on a cookie sheet and warm up your broiler. Place the amount of tuna salad you want on the bread and then top with cheese. I used a white and yellow cheddar cheese on this one.

Place under broiler for about 3-4 minutes, but make sure you watch it so it doesn't burn. Remove after cheese gets nice and bubbly and just starts to brown.

Here's the end result:  lots of yummi-ness.  I ate mine with carrots and blueberries and a blueberry herbal ice tea.  So good!

The great thing about this tuna salad is that you can add pasta and a bit more mayo and you have a great tuna pasta salad. 

My favorite way to eat this tuna salad?  As a dip for potato chips!  It's so good!

Hope you give it a try.  Enjoy!

Change of Plans

On a weekend not too long ago I had the luxury of having a whole weekend to myself with nothing scheduled and no place I had to be, except for church on Sunday morning. After quite a few busy weekends it was wonderful to be able to do what I wanted when I wanted to do it. I got up about 7:30 that morning, made myself a good, healthy breakfast and started my day.  

The original plan was to get some cooking done to restock my freezer with items that I use on a consistent basis, but take a while to put together. These are items that are used either to supplement a meal or to take to work for lunch, but would take too long to cook on any particular week night. Specifically, I wanted to make a brown rice pilaf that I love as a side dish, some applesauce from apples that were left over from a fruit basket I received (and a bit too sweet to eat for my tastes), and some beef barley soup made from pot roast that I could not finish a few nights before (which was actually reheated once already).  All in all, this was a pretty reasonable amount of cooking that I could get done quite easily on a Saturday with little else to do.

After checking the weather report and finding out that snow was expected some time around noon, I started my day with a trip to the pet supply store. I had to exchange a sweater that I had purchased for my dog because it didn’t fit.  My dog loves to go to the pet store so I brought her along.  After we made the exchange, it was off to the beauty supply store for some good nail files, because doing a nail polish change was on the agenda for tomorrow.

A bundled up Ellie

Back home, I pulled into the driveway just as the snowflakes were starting to fall. I got my purchases into the house and put away, and decided to take my dog for a walk before the snow got too bad. It was actually pretty warm outside (around 25 degrees F), so Ellie and I went on a nice long walk. I know that sounds pretty easy, but it always takes me about 10 minutes just to get dressed to go outside when it’s cold. Jeans off, long underwear on, snow pants, scarf, coat, two sets of gloves (one really warm pair and one not quite so warm pair as I get warmer as the walk progresses), boots, hat, and then Ellie got to wear her new sweater. Ellie always stands looking at me while I’m getting dress with a look on her face as if to say, “Do you really need to put all that on just to go outside?”  I put my garage door opener in my pocket, grabbed Ellie’s leash, and off we went.

We walked for 45 minutes, got home and did the whole dressing thing in reverse. Once situated I started to get my cooking ingredients in order which meant a trip downstairs to my pantry. On the way downstairs I thought I’d check my upright freezer to see if there was any beef barley soup left, as I was sure there was at least one or two bowls in there (there wasn’t). Scouring through the freezer I started to notice how old some of the items in there were. Some I had brought with me when I moved into this house and had been in my freezer a while when I moved them. So I pulled out a few things that had a pretty good layer of frost on top of them. Then I pulled out a few more, and a few more, and a few more after that. Oh what the heck, I’m just going to do a good freezer cleanse while I’m here!  

After multiple trips up and down the basement stairs I had about 40 containers that I took out of the freezer!  Some had been in there quite a while. I hate to waste food, but this stuff was probably way past edible and I didn’t want to find out the hard way that it was no good. Now comes the fun task of figuring out how I dispose of most of this.

Before

The old sauces I thawed out and they went down the drain. A few other things went through the garbage disposal and down the drain. Most other things went into the trash can and then out to the garage. One of the benefits of being in a cold climate is that in the winter the garbage that’s stored out in the garage does not thaw out. After I emptied out all the containers and got everything thrown away I was faced with a sink full of storage containers that needed washing. This was not in my plans for the day. Note to self: don’t store leftovers in the freezer unless you’re absolutely sure you’re going to use them!

After

I filled the sink with some nice hot soapy water and started washing. I would wash a batch, dry that batch, stack them together, and then start on the next batch. This continued for about an hour. Finally, after everything was clean, I found a spot for all the containers in my cupboard, stepped back and appreciated all my hard work, and decided it was time for some lunch.  

In my defense, yes, I should have done this when I moved out of my husband’s house. But to tell you the truth, on that particular day when we were moving the freezer, I just wanted to get the frak out of there. So I packed everything up into coolers and bags and figured I would deal with it later.  

You see this whole stash that I had in the freezer represented something that I knew had been going on for a while. Before I married my husband I used to love to cook and bake and it was a way for me to show my son, and then subsequently my boyfriend, how much I loved them because I would provide good, healthy, homemade meals that would nourish them body and soul. As my marriage went sour, I started to feel my love of cooking dwindle away. It became a chore, and I was tired and stressed out, and I just didn’t feel inspired any more. When I would cook something I would put the leftovers in the freezer, but my husband didn’t like leftovers, so there they sat, taking up space, a symptom of a greater problem.

Being able to clean out the freezer was very therapeutic to me.  It was, in some small part, closure.  I got rid of those things that reminded me of a time when I wasn’t really myself. Now I can fill the freezer with food that I have cooked for myself that will nourish MY body and soul.  

I did end up getting all my cooking done during the afternoon. By the end of the day I had filled about a dozen of those newly cleaned containers with beef barley soup, brown rice pilaf, and one big container full of cinnamon applesauce. Plus, as an added bonus, I had added over 12,500 steps to my pedometer! All in all, it was a pretty good day.