eating

New York, New York

~ thedailydish ~ 18 Comments

Saturday – in honor of John’s 37th birthday – we went to NEW YORK. Almost a year since our last visit. October 2007, boarding the Norwegian Spirit on our way to New England & Canada. As exciting as that trip had been (taking in the sights of the NYC passenger terminal and Penn Station), this time we wanted MORE.

Behold the American Museum of Natural History.  Isn’t she PRETTTY??  YES_SHE_IS!

We got to the museum early. We’d debated the merits of driving v. taking the train and finally decided just to drive. Mostly b/c it allowed an extra hour of sleep. There’s a parking garage located conveniently beneath the museum, so we were able to park all day for just $46 bucks. WOW. My lovely friend Pannonica had set aside Super Passes for us and let me tell you. NOTHING BEATS FREE. The “insider touching privileges” and executive washroom access were just icing on the (proverbial) bday cake. Make no mistake, Biologists are ROCK STARS.

The museum is massive, so we had to prioritize. Several sections are similar to the Academy of Natural Sciences here in Philly, as well as the Penn Museum and the Smithsonian. So we skipped those. NO NOT ALL OF THEM.  A few we walked through, doing the YES I AM PAYING ATTENTION dance. The place is just way too big to see in one day. So we did the best we could. We took in the scenic tour of the Food Court. I recommend getting there as soon as it opens, before the bagels are fondled too much. At lunchtime the place is an absolute zoo. I wanted to try the empanadas, but as the line was 5 deep, I gave up. The half of a bacon cheeseburger I pried away from my husband was o-kay. But not an empanata. We checked out one of the gift shoppes. The girls wanted cool moving-picture book marks, which were indeed neat, but at $6 a piece left me aching for an empanada.

2 meals in the food court and one gift shoppe visit later, we took in the actual museum. Which is very quiet and clean 1st thing in the morning. Disintegrating into a combination swap-meet/ Macy’s parade atmosphere as the day wears on.  We saw as much as humanly possible w/ 2 children in tow and swarming hordes of on-lookers. The highlights included the breathtaking Hall of Ocean Life. Also, the Dinosaurs Alive! IMAX film, which positively enchanted my older daughter, though not my husband. Always a critic. We all very much enjoyed the Lizards & Snakes: Alive! special exhibit, which, I confess, has left me longing for a Burmese Python. The whole museum – from the dioramas to the miles-long array of minerals, to the beauty of the building itself – is awesome. Fascinating. Overwhelming.  By the time we left, I felt like someone who’d tried digesting 5 billion years of history w/ one too few Tums.

BUT THERE’S ALWAYS ROOM FOR DESSERT.  And what trip to New York is complete w/out a visit to the sweetest place on earth (at least for a child) – FAO SCHWARTZ.  We made our way through Central Park, ambling towards 5th Avenue. It was simply lovely. The undulating trunks of the American Elms, the couples in love, the roller dancers making fools of themselves. AHHHHH. What a day to be alive.  Even the teeming crowds outside the Plaza weren’t enough to throw off our bliss.

Until we arrived at FAO SCHWARTZ.  I must confess that my daughters were MORE THAN A LITTLE skeptical regarding this particular store.  They kept asking, over and over – What IS THIS??  WHERE ARE WE GOING??  IS THIS FUN>> IS IT FOR KIDSSSS>????  As though we’d lost our senses.  TRUE the name does sound more like a financial institution than a toy store.  But once we stood outside the glass walls, and the girls had spotted the doorman dressed as a toy soldier, they knew GAME ON.  Once inside, we managed to make our way through the two stories and come away unscathed.  The ladies agreed to one small Playmobil set each. I was awed by the life-size Lego recreations of Chewbacca, Hagrid and the Harry Potter gang. But enough is enough.

Next stop: American Girl Place. Anyone who knows me can JUST IMAGINE WHAT I WAS THINKING. And you would be right. But I kept it BUTTONED. Through 4 floors of crass commercialism, personal shopping, doll hair salon, and cafe. I simply smiled weakly and let Daddy treat his daughters. Afterward I needed a drink. BAAAAAAAAD. We walked up 5th Avenue, past stores I will never be able to afford, surging with the crowd. We ate dinner at a cozy Irish place, which YOU KNOW HAD ALCOHOL. We stood in Times Square, gazing open-mouthed at all the neon and craziness. And then we walked, slowly, back to the car, taking in the sights. Watching the blocks morph from tacky souvenirs into respectable stone. And silently wondering what life must be like for those fortunate enough to live in such splendor.


My friends are the BEST.

~ thedailydish ~ 9 Comments

THANK YOU, everyone, for your incredible expressions of sympathy. I cannot tell you how much it cheered me up. Seriously. you guys are the BEST.

The past few days I’ve felt like something on the bottom of a shoe, but today the sky is blue, the birds are singing and all seems right again w/ the world. It stings to look out the back window and see Prudence’s lonely hutch there w/out her. But I made arrangements to pick up her ashes in a couple weeks, and returning her to the place she loved will bring closure to the circle. I didn’t realize it would take so long to have a private cremation for a rabbit. But for only $85, who’s complaining? That wouldn’t even cover my toenails at a funeral parlor.

The insurance companies are handling the accident claim. It’s good to know we’re getting something out of allll thatt moneeeyyy spent on insurance.

SO. I have been unbelievably busy the past couple weeks, and feel like I haven’t been blogging, or even reading blogs. I have no time. NONE. I’m only on the computer b/c I snuck away. My daughters are now both home for the summer. The next 11 weeks. I counted.

C’MMMOONNN August 26th!!!!

Who knew two sweet girls could be such ruffians? I am not joking. These kids fight all day long. If one of them isn’t complaining abut the other, it’s probably b/c they’re plotting something else. SERIOUSLY, I need one of those tiny tape recorders so I don’t go hoarse. W/ the touch of a button I’d simply start the playback loop:
QUIT IT!!!
I DON’T CARE WHAT SHE DID.
TIME OUT!
WOULD YOU PLEASE STOP TOUCHING ME.
YES, I HEEEEARRRRRD YOU. THAT IS THE THIRD TIME YOU ASKED> I SAID WAITTTT.
LEAVE YOUR SISTER ALLLLOOOOONE.
STOP IT. NOW. I MEAN IT. CUT IT OOOOUUUUTT. NOOOOOW.
PICK UP YOUR [insert item].
WHERERRE ARE YOUR SHOESS???????????????
NO – MEANS NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,
ICE CREAM IS NOT BREAKFAST, and BY THE WAY DID you have to leave it out on the coffee table??? ARE YOU SLOW?? Did you not think I would be pissed that a) you were eating ice cream at 6 o’clock in the morning??, and b) THAT YOU LET IT MELT?? all over the effing table. next to a PILE OF CHIPS. You two stink at this. You have to be SNEAKY. SNEAAAAAAKKKKY. That means putting it ALL BACK before I come down here in the morning. But no….

Yes, I am going a little insane. For some reason, these kids want to be entertained 24/7. They think I am Julie, your cruise director from the Love Boat. I guess it’s my fault. We have been renting the first season of Love Boat episodes from Netflix and MAN, my daughters are HOOKED. My husband has given up. He was patient for a little while, as long as I plied him with a steeping quantity of wine and/or whiskey, but no more. He says he has reached his Love Boat limit. Granted, the shows are a little formulaic. And YES you do know what is going to happen as soon as the passengers board. The acting’s bad. I know it’s not PBS. BUT He just doesn’t understand. I spent hours watching the Love Boat as a child. It was **MAGICAL**.

ANYWAY, John graduated Saturday. and now is the proud owner of a masters degree in Information Science. We’d made plans to attend commencement, but at the very last minute John changed his mind. so we went to the Borgata instead. I have to say, WAY TO GO JOHN! a MUCH more pleasant way to spend a Saturday night. After stuffing our faces at the Buffet, John & the girls hit the beach and Mom-Mom & I hit the slots. LO & BEHOLD, those sneaky tricksters at the Borgata played a shell game w/ my secret luckiest winningest machine and MOVED IT. Damn! Oh well. I won $47 on another machine, and John’s grandmom won $94. I like winning money. Almost as much as being sent UNBELIEVABLY MARVVVELOUS PRESENTS IN THE MAIL when I least expect them! WOW.

JUST LOOK at this absolutely STUNNING scarf I rec’d yesterday from my brilliant pal Tracey. Who soooooo totally ROCKS!!! Thanks so much Trace!!!!!!!! As you can see, Kiwi has already made herself comfortable. I LOVE IT.

ATTENTION DAILY DISH RECIPE SITE READERS

~ thedailydish ~ 20 Comments

I have been fielding emails from many of you since Memorial Day regarding the status of The Daily Dish. I know it’s been confusing, my having kept the same page up from May 26th until this very morning. The lack of daily updates has been a source of anxiety for some of you, and for this, I apologize. I do recognize (and am indeed honored) that many people have come to depend on my website, and I do not mean to disappoint. But for the time being, I am on hiatus.

This post as well as this one provide much more detail as to why I am (at least for the time being) suspending work on The Daily Dish. Without being crass, I simply am being underpaid. I have spent HOURS AND HOURS each week for months working on recipes for the site, shopping for ingredients, cooking, cleaning, photographing, programming, and more. Running, writing and creating The Daily Dish is like working a full time 40 hr a week job for free. In addition to the time involved, it has also been a financial drain, with all of the food, gas and other expenses coming purely out of pocket.

I have thought long & hard about how to support this venture, whether it be through advertising on the site, publishing and selling a physical cookbook, asking for donations. I have up until now foregone ads for the sheer fact that I loathe them. I do not want to clutter my site w/ a bunch of google click-throughs intended to deceive & lure readers away from real content. I despise flashing banner ads – which frankly no one should have to deal with, but especially not those suffering from Meniere’s.

I am still quite wedded to the idea of publishing my own cookbook, but have been unable to make further strides b/c of the burden of updating the website. I simply can’t do both. It took me over 2 years of writing and research before I could even get the site up & running. Maintaining it has been a chore and a half. Now that I am on break, I have more time at my disposal for working on an actual book. Many people have responded favorably to the idea, and I very much welcome your comments regarding one. Would readers be interested in buying my book were I able to get it published? It may be easier for people to work from a book in the kitchen. It is for me. And so, I am exploring it as a viable option.

Just this morning, my dear friend Tracey emailed me another possible solution to my dilemma. A man engaged in a different-but-similar niche website has successfully campaigned the past two years for donations, along the lines of a PBS pledge drive. He has set periodic financial goals to cover his time & expenses, then asked readers to contribute whatever they can. This seems like a plausible solution, but again, I am not sure how readers would react. Would people be willing to pay for a service they have already come to expect and enjoy for free?

Please, if you value the website and the work that I have done, give me your feedback. It is essential for the continuation of The Daily Dish.

Happy Momma’s Day Weekend~ YO!

~ thedailydish ~ 7 Comments

I don’t know about you, but I for one enjoy the easy life. Someone else cooking my food, cleaning up after me, picking my teeth. So next to my birthday week, and Christmas, I like Mother’s Day weekend the BEST.

Friday night kicked off the festivities w/ a hot date featuring my husband.
After sushi for two @ our favorite place, we hit Ye Olde Booksellers. I got a great new book called Farewell, My Subaru. A tale about a guy who gives up his material existence to live off the land in New Mexico. Never mind he’s a pampered urbanite with zero farm experience. I was sold when I read he’d gotten goats off of Craigslist.

Given the number of pets we have, this shouldn’t come as a major surprise, but we’ve also gotten animals off of Craigslist. Our former 3rd-hand macaw, and our little wonder bird *Kiwi*. Now normally I’m not one to toot my own bird, but since we’re on the subject. Toot-toot. it sure is hard to imagine life w/out Kiwi. I would have to go back to grooming myself, changing clothes just once a day, and having friends. YES, She’s become so attached to me, in fact, that I may have to take a restraining order out on her. She has of late begun trying to drive all others away from me. For instance, when someone comes over to talk (and by someone I mean ANYONE, including humans, human-esque forms, animals – even toys and telephones), she begins to chirp in a jealous fashion. If I do not respond, she becomes slightly more agitated, to the point where she starts to lunge at said person (or animal – or phone), trying to bite them and send them packing. I have had boyfriends who were not so attentive. Or insane.

ANYWAY. Saturday my husband – who is just so smart! brought down the big plastic log cabin that was up in our attic playroom and reassembled it outside for our daughters – as well as the rest of the kids on the block. It looks like this:

Except that ours is now taking up most of our front porch, and those are NOT my kids. But they do look like they are having a grand old time, and they would not be the only ones. The ladies were having the BEST TIME EVERRRRR this weekend playing in that thing. And who can blame them?! If I were a kid, I can’t imagine anything better than my very own plastic log cabin!!

So Saturday evening my husband dragged the girls away from the cabin to take us all to the Borgata buffet for a pre-momma’s day feast. We got there just after 5 PM and let me tell you, that is the BEST TIME TO GO. There was no line, no waiting, nothing but food glorious food and meeeee eating it alllllll. After dinner, I did NOT play my secret luckiest winniest machine ever, mostly b/c someone else was using it and they did NOT appear to be winning anything. Instead I went the next aisle over and played a brand new machine called S’mores. And it was DELiCIOUSLY addictive. Yes, I blew $40 away on the machine quick-as-a-wink, and wanted to go back and spend more. B/c THAT is the kind of food-obsessed moron I am. Oh well. It was fun while the flavor lasted. After the Borgata, we went to the beach, and it was as magical as ever even though it was windy and cold. Ahhhh. Nothing like it.

Yesterday, Momma’s Day, was lovely. My older daughter lost her second tooth in TWO DAYS. I kid you not. We were all giddy about it. She also got her brand new violin restrung, and practically slept w/ it she was so happy. Later in the day we went shopping, and even though I have decided that bathing suit shopping is as close to hell as I care to get, I even found a new swimsuit! It is WAY CUTE with the prettiest pattern. I usually hate most bathing suits b/c they are made of hideously ugly fabric, things you wouldn’t dare dress in EVER. Not to mention the fact that most of them make you feel like an over-stuffed sausage sticking out of a waaaay too small casing. But this one is soooooo sweet. YAY. Yes, I know I have half a dozen bikinis that my husband begs me to wear, but all I want is a cute 1-pc that holds my ample chest in place so I can run around in the surf & build sandcastles w/ my kids w/out worrying that my breastesssessss are popping out unbeknownst to me and some old duffer is getting an eyeballfull. which has happened before. This suit is great b/c it is SO CUTE and fun, but highly practical. My idea of perfection.

So last night we returned home for supper before the BIG SURVIVOR SEASON FINALLEE!! 3 HOURS OF SURVIVOR FUNNNN!!! Which brings me to the funniest story. Last night as I was inside getting dinner together (YES I KNOW I WAS COOKING DINNER ON MY VERY OWN MOTHER’S DAY BUT WAIT TILL YOU HEAR THE REST OF MY STORY). SO, I was inside, and the next thing I know my husband comes in the house w/ the biggest smirk on his face. He goes YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED. And he starts just cracking up. Well it turns out, our little neighbor across the street isn’t quite *up to speed* yet w/ regard to potty training. So she’s out there playing with all the kids, hanging out inside the cabin, when SNIFF**SNIFF** my older daughter’s like “Who FARTED??” The cabin apparently goes silent. The kids are all looking around at each other, waiting for someone to fess up. My daughter asks the littlest neighbor, “Did you fart?” To which the little one responds, “No fart, POOP.” My daughter looks down and sees that the kid has POOP all over her leg – AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! Thus prompting a MASS EXODUS from the cabin. All the kids spill out onto the sidewalk. So on the cement, my husband discovers this one lone turd. Just sitting there. right outside the cabin door. Our friend across the street happened to come across just then, with a plastic bag in her pocket. No kidding. Craziest thing ever. Can you imagine just walking down the street and PLOP a big crap falls out of your shorts! BOY I hope that’s not me some day.

I’m BACK!

~ thedailydish ~ 6 Comments

I would ASK if you all missed me, but those butterscotch-sweet comments speak for themselves. You guys are the BEST! Thank you for making me feel like the belle of the ball. Unfortunately, in real life I am feeling a lot more like the Ty-D-Bol Man caught in a perpetual flush. This weekend was F-U-N with a capital F, but the 30 hour car ride has left me reeling. With my head on spin cycle, I am ever-so-slowly rejoining reality. It’s almost 8 PM. I am still in my PJs, I have not brushed my hair, but I did this morning brush my teeth. Things are looking up.

We left Thursday morning for the reunion, and drove straight through to Davenport, Iowa. The family had reserved a block of rooms at a local hotel, and upon arrival John & I discovered we’d been given the “Honeymoon Suite.” Sweeeeet. Well, it would have been, were we not also sharing it with our two children. Oh well. We joked about the mirrored ceiling the rest of the weekend, and instead of a seductive soak in our massive jacuzzi, the ladies and I took a pre-party bath together. As my younger daughter said, a little weird, but still fun.

We spent much of the weekend partying b/c THAT is what my family does best. Some families drink to escape, but us, we drink to further enhance our feelings of good will. We are one fun loving bunch. We played games, swam in the indoor pool and spent a boatload in the arcade. We ate. We are SCHOLFIELDS after all. We ordered pizza from 2 different Midwestern chains, with specialty pies called The Inferno, The BLT, and The Taco Joe. I had never seen a pizza covered in Doritos before, but now I have. Not quite as strange as seeing that pizza with a whole fried egg on top like I did in France, but. strange nonetheless.

The weather was cold and rainy for much of our stay, making Philly seem positively balmy by comparison. On Friday, a hotel employee came round to announce a *Tornado Warning* until 5 PM, saying we might have to evacuate to the basement. WOW. Getting my drunk on in a darkened basement might not have been my first choice, but I’m always game for something new. The wind shook the building, and the rain came down in buckets – actually leaking through the roof in places – but that was it. No evacuation. Perhaps next time.

Saturday was the formal luncheon at Deere Run, the John Deere golf club. It’s a lovely place and seemed a particularly fitting choice for the event, given that my grandfather worked for them most of his life. After eating, we took turns lining up for posed portraits, which although slightly tedious was still sort of fun and of course much appreciated by G-ma. It’s amazing how little everyone has changed in 10 years. My cousins, aunts & uncles all pretty much look the same. If it weren’t for the kids, we could still be back in 1998. I will keep telling myself that anyway.

Later in the evening, we met at the hotel-cum-retirement home where my grandmother lives. This rendezvous was for a very special event. The Wearing of the Scholfield Family Reunion T-Shirts. This tradition states that all family members as well as Guests (and yes, we do provide t-shirts for them as well) must don an Official Scholfield Family Reunion T-Shirt for a prescribed length of time, during which many photographs will be taken for posterity. This tradition seems to divide our family into one of two vocal groups: The Lovers of the T-Shirts and The Loathers of the T-Shirts. These white tees are emblazoned with emblems from all of our past reunions, and on the back is written your name and a catchy slogan. I will not tell you mine b/c it is a FAMILY SECRET, but this year there were some new winners. For instance, my cousin’s new husband from Down Under got, “Lawrence: Australian for Scholfield”. Yes, We ARE CLEVER. These t-shirts switch hands every so often, as a new person is elected to produce the new batch of emblems. At this reunion I requested that my Aunt send them to me next. This may or may not have something to do w/ the fact that my mail service is so PISS POOR I’ll likely never receive them. Oops. No need to confess where I stand on this most precious family tradition.

This weekend was a trip. It was a physical haul, driving straight through from Philly to Davenport, Iowa. BOTH WAYS, With only 2 DAYS of heavy drinking in between. I of course have vertigo. again. Which makes me almost as depressed as leaving my family. I have lived my whole life so far away from my relatives. And now my parents and my only sister also live 800 miles away. When we parted on Sunday, I was sobbing like a baby. But worse. I love my family. They are GREAT in every sense of the word. Fun. Full of life. Even my 95 year old grandmother. Now that I am home again, I miss them terribly. I know scores of people who long to escape from their relatives, but not me. I only wish we lived closer.

Today is my grandmother’s 95th birthday. It’s hard to believe. 95 years is a damn long time. 90 years longer than my younger daughter has lived. 60 years longer than I have been around. A whole lifetime of time. And although her body is failing, her mind is still strong. She dishes her guilt with almost surgical precision. She may have a brain tumor impinging on her thoughts at times and occasionally garbling her meaning, but she is still very much with it. So she’s confined to a wheelchair, she gets around. And even has a BOYFRIEND. My 95 year old grandma, as frail as she is, is one tough old bird. God bless her.