Black Cherries?

Green Curry?

Coffee?

If Music Be the Love of Food

In response to Christopher Joseph Westgate's essay Semiotic Sound Bites, I have compiled a brief list of pairings of food and music (not so much particular songs, but rather musicians and bands) that seem to fit nicely together. Some food conjures the music and some the reverse is true. Hopefully this sonic palette will surely please the taste buds.

1. Coffee = the complete works of The Smiths or NPR. I'm sure many would agree.
2. But espresso says Scott Walker or Françoise Hardy.
3. Black cherries or black raspberries - My Bloody Valentine (especially the album Loveless)
4. Thai green curry with tofu - Bjork. Complicated tastes for a complex musician. Try with Medulla or the Drawing Restraint 9 soundtrack.
5. Guacamole, chips and salsa with the Cambodian/psychedelic pop of Dengue Fever(especially the self-titled album) or Ethiopian jazz of Mulatu Astatke makes me think of a garden party in the San Francisco Bay area in springtime.
6. A nice strong chai tea says "podcast" to me- perhaps Dan Carlin's Hardcore History or the Infinite Monkey Cage.
7. Oatmeal and bananas also says NPR. More morning staples.
8. Ah memories. Lexington barbecue from the southeast will always make me think of The Pixies.
9. PBR and cigarettes- my brother's band Autopassion and his other musical ventures.
10. A nice bottle of Argentine Malbec might pair well with Radiohead.

So what do you think? Does music remind you of any particular foods? Or vice versa?

Mood Food

This is my first blog ever and I know I really missed the bus by doing these on time. I just got back from eating Applebee's with a friend and she just had one of those days where she "had to leave" her apartment. When we got to Applebee's she informed me she was going to absolutley pig out and I instantly agreed to follow along. She ordered a drink- "Anything with Vodka." Yeah, that kind of day. Laughing it off that I still can't drink yet I ordered water. We got BBQ wings as an appetizer and steak and potatoes for dinner. My friend ate her food like it was going out of style and it kind of made me uncomfortable. She was literally scarfing it down without giving herself time to realize how much she was actually eating. She was done with her meal by the time I had only finished my steak. I'm probably one of the worst eaters I know of... I enjoy steak too much and even after watching Food Inc I still eat at McDonald's. I still think about the facts that they brought up and how all this bad eating will soon catch up to me, but I don't know, I enjoy the foods that I eat and haven't quite come to reality about what it will do in the end to my body. So, ultimately I wanted this blog to be about how people turn to food and how they eat differently in different situations. For her she said that she just needed some carbs, but I think the things that she had been dealing with in life had just made her break, and this was the one thing she could actually have full control over. Have any of you felt like this?

Family Function or Food Fest?

My family gets together for all of the right reasons, don't get me wrong but the foundation for which we really love getting together on Sundays is not only because we want to spend quality time together. It's because of a ridiculous amount of food. On the counters when entering my grandma's old, creaky house, you'll see at least four pies, a pot of tea steaming, a pot of black coffee brewing, a massive bowl of spaghetti, usually a vat of some sort of vegetable, a variety of meat for the men and two crazy uncles bouncing on the couch at the Bears game. Grandchildren are talking a mile a minute, the dog is barking and my aunts are drinking wine and stirring a bowl of something my grandma has been cooking all day. Last weekend was my brother's 17th birthday. He didn't want a party but there was no escaping the inevitable family party. We ate. We sang. We ate cake. We ate some more. We then proceeded to enter a food coma on the living room floor. We do this to ourselves every Sunday. It's go big or go home in my family. All of my cousins are girls so when we bring boys home to meet the family, they have to endure food-fest, or when it gets closer to the holidays, what my grandpa calls "festivus". If they can't handle Uncle Jay in a Bears hardhat with a beer in hand, eating at least three plates full of food and a five year old telling grandpa he's a crazy old man, they're out. Family is important. Food is important and what brings us all together are our matching dark eyes and love for food. Do any of your families love food this much? :)

New Use for Wonton Wrappers

So the other night I wanted to make dessert, but i really didn't feel like going to the store because it was cold. When I looked in my fridge I saw wonton wrappers (from when I made chicken potstickers), so I made these yummy cinnamon cream cheese and raspberry filled wontons. I loved them so I thought I would share the recipe with you.

8oz. cream cheese

3 Tbl cinnamon

2 Tbl sugar

25-30 Wonton wrappers

handful of raspberries

All you do is let the cream cheese sit out so it gets soft then mix the cinnamon and sugar into it. You can add more or less cinnamon and sugar according to your tastes. Then you crush the raspberries in a bowl. Next you lay out a wonton wrapper and but a small spoonful of the cream cheese and small amount of raspberry in the middle of the wrapper. Fold over the wrapper and seal with a fork. Once they are all filled, you fry them in a small amount of oil in a pan and they are done. I sprinkled a little more cinnamon and sugar on top and drizzled them with chocolate sauce and then I served the left over crushed raspberries to dip it in.

Salad Issues

From a young age my father made it a point to make his hatred of salad clear. He always said, "The only reason I can eat salad at restaurants is because I know a steak is coming right after." Growing up in such an anti-salad environment you can imagine the salad baggage I carry. This, however, is not the real problem; instead my real problem is that I have recently started trying to eat somewhat healthier or lighter foods. Salads not only fit this bill nicely, but are also quick, easy, and with a little creativity delicious. So for now I am of two minds regarding the leafy green food I have for so long avoided. Does anyone else, besides Clint's gyro issues, have a like experience?

Food Fear

So I have realized that I have an interesting fear of food, not like shake in my boots, but more of a concern of trying new foods. To start off I have never had a gyro before and swore that this semester I was going to stop anywhere and get one. Why do I have this fear? I am not sure, it could be because the name of it starts with g but has an "ee" sound instead. I have used the excuse that I do not have access to any where that sells gyros but in all actuality I pass by several different places that sell them on a daily basis. I have been told that they are delicious and that they are just steak in a pita bread (both of which I really enjoy). I am starting to believe that it is the name that seems unappealing to me. I am used to things that look the way that they sound, and also sound the way that they look. Another food that I am hesitant to try is Thia food, I realize that this is not a single item that I am fearful of it is a countries food but still I am skeptical of giving it a try. Once I have heard anything negative about a single food or nations food I am skeptical of trying it out. I am sure that there is some psychological disorder from which this stems but I was just wondering if anyone else had a food phobia's.

Meatless Monday's

So, with the inspiration I gained from Food Inc. (if that is possible, since the movie is so shocking) I decided I would try Meatless Monday's. I don't eat a lot of meat to begin with, but for lunch... I really love me some turkey on my sandwich. Day after day I take my wheat bread, pile on the turkey, cheese, tomato, mustard, and a little lettuce. Pair that with some Quaker "Tortillaz" (garden salsa flavored to be exact)and you've got the perfect lunch-- at least as far as I'm concerned. On the rare occasion I do not pack for myself, I often enjoy something from the cafe;and lately I have become a pretty big fan of the turkey burgers on campus. Needless to say, turkey is a pretty big staple for my midday meal.
But yesterday...I decided it was time. It was time to try... A VEGGIE BURGER! In honor of meatless monday's, I walked up to the grille staff person and ordered a veggie burger with confidence-- even though I was actually pretty reluctant to try such a foreign lunch food. I then proceeded to ask her what was in it, just because I really don't know much about veggie burgers to be honest. But, it was either the veggie burger or the salad bar, and when you work at Pizza Hut (who has an amazing salad bar...trust me)nothing can really compare. Plus, the turkey slices next to the bowl of lettuce was just too tempting. Anyway, the grille was pretty busy with the lunchtime rush, and the staff member kind of brushed off the question with a look that said "Its a veggie burger lady. Its vegetables in burger form." I'm not sure if she was annoyed, really didn't know, or if it was a combination of both; but nevertheless I had to trust that the grille was providing me with a wholesome, vegetable burger with no meat. I'm not really sure what the criteria is for a "good" veggie burger, like I said, I don't really know much about them, but at this point I was just hungry and ready to see if Meatless Monday's were going to be able to become something regular for me.
I was kind of disappointed when the grille staff put the burger in the microwave. They grille all of their other burgers on the flames in the back, and I wondered why my burger didn't get the same treatment. She put it on the wheat bun, and I took it over to the "fixin's bar" to put some of my favorite toppings on it. This is what the finished product looked like:



I must say, it was a very interesting meal. It in no way resembled the taste or texture of any "burger" I had consumed before this point. The tomatoes, pickles, and onions brought a little familiarity to the flavor, but the burger had a very weird crunchiness to it. It wasn't carrot or celery crunchiness though. It was more of a....nutty crunch? A soft nut though...Like, maybe sunflower seeds or cashews? I really do not know how to explain it. I think that maybe if it weren't for the undefined crunchy texture, I might have enjoyed the burger a little more. I only ate about half of it, and as my boyfriend say across the table finishing his last bite of cheeseburger and fries, I envied him--just a little.
Overall, the experience was kind of like dieting. When you tell yourself you cannot have that piece of chocolate cake, you want it even more. The only thoughts crossing my mind the rest of the day were all of the yummy meat based dinners I knew how to prepare. But, I stuck to my guns--promise. Before I left campus I grabbed a pretzel with cheese and headed off to the computer lab for a long night of writing revisions. And for once, I was actually thankful for the loss of appetite side effect from my Concerta :) Today, I packed a roast beef sandwich for lunch, with some organic veggie straws I found at Wal-mart, and the final verdict is:

I'd love to have one day a week when I don't consume meat at all. But until I do more research on vegetarian options and gather some recipes under my belt, there is just no way to make the experience an enjoyable one. So for now, I really don't think Meatless Mondays are right for me--yet.

Easy Sweet Potato Recipe

Last weekend, I tried a new recipe that I found in a magazine called "Simple and Delicious." It was a subscription I bought during a fundraiser at my youngest son's school, and I figured I might get a couple recipes out of the deal. This magazine didn't disappoint. It's got lots of dollar-conscious recipes, many sent in by readers. The one I tried was called Sweet Potato Praline Swirl, and it was so tasty and easy, I figured I'd share it in case anyone was looking for something new to try for Thanksgiving.

• 2 medium sweet potatoes, peeled and cubed
• 1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
• 2 eggs
• 1/4 cup packed brown sugar
• 3 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/2 cup chopped pecans
• 
  PRALINE SAUCE:
• 1/3 cup packed brown sugar
• 1/4 cup sweetened condensed milk
• 2 teaspoons butter, melted
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
  

Directions

• Place sweet potatoes in a large saucepan and cover with water. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; cover and cook for 10-15 minutes or until tender.
• Drain potatoes and place in a large bowl; mash until smooth. Beat in the cream, eggs, brown sugar, vanilla, cinnamon and ginger; fold in pecans.
• Transfer to a greased 8-in. square baking dish. Combine sauce ingredients; spoon over potato mixture. Cut through with a knife to swirl the sauce.
• Bake, uncovered, at 325° for 30-40 minutes or until a thermometer reads 160°.
  
• 6 servings.

Just a warning, it doesn't look very appetizing when it comes out of the oven, though it tastes wonderful. I'll probably try to dress it up a bit next time with some marshmallows or extra pecans on top.

Trying New Things

I have decided that for my blog post I am going to try things that I have never tried before. The first instillation of my blog is going to be beer related. I know I am taking one for the team here but anything for education. My story starts a little something like this.

It was a Tuesday evening and I decided that today would be the best day to try something new. So, I got in my car and drove to Chalet Party Shoppe (you know its classy because it has two p's and an extra e) where I spoke with the clerk about what beer would be best. I gave her the guidelines that I wanted something dark and something that I have never heard of before. She perused the isles with me and pointed out some off the wall brands like "Old Leg Humper", "Arrogant Bastard"(I have had this beer and it is GREAT), "Moose Drool", and "Horse Piss". After we walked through the isles and she told me most of what I wanted to hear, I told her I was looking for something that was smooth, cold, and I could buy in singles. Then we walked to the cooler and she introduced to me Baltika number 4.

Baltika is a company out of Russia (and a few other Baltic countries .... hence the name) and I was told that it is the Budweiser of Russia. Being told that it is the Budweiser of Russia I instantly thought that it would be horrible like Budweiser is to me. But I was surprised and it was really quite good. The beer itself was dark but it was really smooth. I have noticed that with some dark beers that after drinking them there is a instance after you have finished your sip where you try to exhale the taste out of your mouth as quick as possible and make a scrunched up face. This was not the case with this beer. I found it refreshing.... well refreshing for a beer. They have several different types of beer and they are numbered 0-10, not really the most creative with their beer titles. Here is a link with the information about the numbers and the beer associated with it. http://bravosolutions.com/baltika_beer.php.

After trying this beer I recommend it to all of you who are over the age of 21. I do not promote underage drinking so please wait until you are of legal age. Plus if you wait til your of legal age and you go up to the bar tender when you are with your friends and order a Russian beer your friends will totally think your a bad ass.... this is my opinion.

It was a few weeks ago that I tried Baltika number 4, since then I have ventured out and tried Baltika number 7. This beer is also very good. I like these beers because they are smooth, no after taste, and they are crisp. I wish that I was a sort of beer aficionado and I could tell you what beer goes best with each meal, but I cannot. What I can suggest is if you are looking for a beer to drink that will taste good and would go well with most wings, hamburgers, or pizza I suggest this one.

Stay tuned my next post when I try a food that I have never tried before.

The Day I Put the Pills in my Pocket

I wanted to write about a college student's struggle with her food relationship and how it has changed ever since she decided to be medicated for Attention Deficit Disorder. I don't normally talk about it a lot... but that girl is me. I get embarrassed because a lot of people think it is fake, and then I get frustrated because so much of my life-- including what I eat-- is influenced by taking my medication. However, for the log analysis, I just couldn't find a way to incorporate two authors. So instead, I made a blog post about it....in fact, I've started my own blog. You can check it out at www.lettheflamesbegin718@tumblr.com or www.whatsyourwhim.tumblr.com . I'm playing around with a few topics, the whats your whim one is about my life as a small town waitress....the other is more reflective and personal. If anyone else has a tumblr account...let me know, I'd love to follow you. Anyway... here is the post I wanted to be my analysis but, couldn't lol :)

I most recently read a piece by Elizabeth Berg called "The Day I Ate Whatever I Wanted" where she recollects her 24 hour period of attempting to cheat on her Weight Watchers Diet plan without any guilt. She was fed up with pretending like she enjoyed being controlled by the points system. She was fed up with keeping track of every single thing she put into her body for the sake of "nutrition" and "health." She was fed up with her food choice, not really being a matter of what she wanted to eat, rather what she was allowed to eat. Which got me thinking...
I never thought in a million years that a person's food choice could be governed by anything other than what one was hungry for at any given moment. Especially impossible for one like myself who has grown up around a focus on the deliciousness of home-style cooking; and who has grown up with a deep respect for the term "soul food." So, with this upbringing, I ate to enjoy food. I ate because an excellent meal included joyful banter with those around me and usually afforded an opportunity to create situations that turned into cherished memories. So when I felt hungry, (you know, that little twinge of emptiness that sort of balls up right in the pit of your stomach begging to be filled with deliciousness) I began to cognitively flip through my mental filing cabinet filled with recipe cards and menu choices. Where or what could I eat that would fulfill the reputation food had so intricately built in my life?
That question changed with my first 54mg dose of Concerta. I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder in the third grade, but my parents refused to have me medicated. With good reason I suppose. What energetic 9 year old knows how to sit in their seat perfectly anyway? But, don't get me started on the American Education System...In college though, the inability to focus, I knew, was something I needed help to control. Thus, I researched my options for aid. Little did I know, my improved cognitive skills would completely overshadow my love for food, and the important role it once played would be forever changed.
I remember taking it on the first day and thinking “I better not be pregnant again.” The nausea was overwhelming, and I couldn’t bare to think about any morsel of food at all. This was rather ironic as a heaping pile of buttermilk biscuits and sausage gravy lay enticingly on the kitchen counter begging me to devour them. I dipped my pinky finger ever so slightly into the rich brown gravy and was devastated when the smell made me want to run to the toilet rather than sit with my family and enjoy breakfast. Still, on my forty- five-minute drive to campus, I noticed an extremely improved ability to stay alert and focus, and I felt happy. There isn’t really any other way to explain it. I wasn’t elated or extremely over joyous, but despite missing my favorite breakfast, I was in a really great mood.
Before I knew it, I didn’t really miss food at all. I found out that eating breakfast before taking the pill took away the nausea, drinking water kept the nausea away, and eating small bits of food throughout the day was really all I needed. The mental filing cabinet of recipe cards and menu choices acquired a thick sheet of dust and cobwebs as food was no longer an entity that defined me as a person. In fact, I started to honestly forget what being hungry felt like. After my body got used to the medication, even thought I wasn’t hungry, I began to look at the food I once loved and longed to consume it with the zest I once did. I looked at the menu at our local diner “Cast Away’s” wishing with the utmost passionate strength that I could fulfill my craving for loaded mashed potatoes just this once. They tasted just like Grandma Howe made. Last Thanksgiving, my daughter tasted her first spoonful of loaded mashed potatoes and it was love at first bite. She looked at her daddy and said “Grandma’s tatoes rule your tatoes” and everyone laughed till tears poured down their cheeks. By the end of the afternoon there wasn’t even a dollop of loaded mashed potatoes left. We were all full then. Happy. But back to reality in Cast Away’s humble dining area, I knew if I ordered the mashed potatoes, I’d make myself sick both emotionally and physically. The desire to experience the smooth, thick texture of potatoes mixed with pieces of hickory-smoked bacon and chives would not be allowed to prevail when my appetite was no longer existent. I got vegetable soup instead.
Three years later, my love for food seems more remembered than experienced. It is more described and talked about than acted upon. My love for food now, almost seems like a made up fairytale you’d read to remember your favorite childhood memories. It is like a topic I find interesting to write about rather than a tradition, a way of life, which actually shaped who I am. I don’t want to lose my love. I don’t want to forget what it feels like to be hungry in the first place. ADD is no longer wearing the pants in my relationship with food—At least for today. I decided, with Thanksgiving coming up, I was going to put the pill in my pocket, and let the feeling of hunger and craving, only once remembered, come to the forefront of my brain and take over.
I woke up and decided to go to the local coffee shop “Java Trail.” I frequently visited the shop, ran by husband and wife when I was younger. I got choco-chip frappes and homemade cinnamon rolls that oozed icing from the inside. They were always warm when you bought them like the couple just baked all day, waiting for you to come in. They also had this egg and cheese casserole. I don’t know how they made it, but they had this little indoor garden that they grew vegetables to make their own salsa all year round, and that’s what I wanted. I wasn’t really hungry, I didn’t think, but I wanted to start the day off right. I bought a large white chocolate mocha and a single serving cheese and egg casserole with a side of salsa and sour cream. I also bought a huge chocolate chip cookie… just because they looked good and I knew I would be able to eat it today…sometime. Caidence would like to share it with me at least. Anyway, as I sat there with the steaming bowl in front of me, I sprinkled a little salt and red pepper, and thought “Now, I am going to savor every single bite of this casserole and fully experience the gooey cheese mixed with soft fluffy eggs and spicy hot chunky salsa draped over cool velvety sour cream.” My mouth actually began to water. It was delicious, but I could only get through half of it. I guess some girls would call this a blessing. I mean I could not finish a casserole serving that was maybe 3 or 4 inches in diameter. But, I wanted to. I wanted to eat the whole thing. I wanted to finish it. Even without the medicine, my body was not used to this kind of food, and it filled up. It shut down. I was done. I boxed it up like I box most servings from restaurants and drove home feeling like maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.
I was full and lethargic. I didn’t have any motivation at all for the rest of the early morning. I felt sluggish and kind of fat. You know that feeling when you ate too much? You can’t suck it in anymore because there’s nowhere for the stomach to suck to? It’s the point where you take off your little red high belt, meant to accentuate the waist, because you can’t really breath anymore. So I laid there…for probably about an hour and 15 minutes waiting for everyone else to get up. I think I had a dream about Bob Evan’s breakfast because when Caidence and Patrick woke up, I cooked breakfast for them. The same biscuits and gravy that once made me sick, now smelled delicious. As I dipped my pinky in the thick brown gravy, I thought mmmm I’ll just have a few spoonfuls. I did. But I was still extremely full, so I could fully enjoy the meal I prepared. This wasn’t fair. I wanted to eat. I guess one day wasn’t enough.
The rest of the day went much the same. Stuffed pita pockets for lunch with red bell pepper and garlic parmesan sauce dripping in the middle. I added a few black olives and diced turkey meatballs too. Caidence sat at the dinner silent. I watched her eat because I had already eaten half of mine and felt too full to finish the rest. She said “Good Mommy!” kind of like the way we say “Good Dog!” but, I knew she was really saying “Thanks for this awesome pita pocket.” She ate the whole thing. And as she licked the parmesan sauce off her little stubby fingers, I envied her ability to still be happy after eating the whole meal. She licked the last thumb one more time and said “Lets play!” She was full, but satisfied. I was full, and paralyzed after only half of the lunch she ate.
We went to Grandma Howe’s for dinner. On the way there, I spilt the giant chocolate chip cookie three ways with Caidence and Patrick. It was delicious, and just the right size. I walked in Grandma’s bright green front door, and automatically knew, that my life was still ran by Concerta. The smell of freshly baked bread made me think about eating 3 slices of it just because I didn’t take my medicine that day. I was thinking about eating all of the things I never got to eat while taking the medicine, so I could enjoy the time with the people I loved and the food so close to my heart just like I used to; and I tried to indulge myself every step of the way. In that sense, it didn’t matter whether I took the medicine or not, each choice for food was governed by whether I had taken my medicine that day… or not. I realized that, eating like I used to really was an experience of the past. It is something I can look back fondly on and reminisce about. But, I still love the feeling I get when watching other people enjoy the food I make. I still love going out to dinner even if I never finish even half of a restaurant serving. So the WAY I enjoy food is different…but the DEGREE is still the same. I realized my life is no less shaped by food today, in fact, it may be even more influenced by it than it ever was. Food and I will always be lovers. We may have moved past the honeymoon phase when I eat lots and lots of whatever I want. But, when I take my pills out of my pocket tomorrow, I will swallow 54mg of Concerta knowing that choosing to make my ability to focus a priority is not breaking off my love for food…merely re-shaping the way we show affection. Which reminds me… how I choose food is still governed by whatever I feel like eating at the moment… its just lately, with Concerta, what I feel like eating is a little bit different.

Just for Fun

I don't know about y'all, but I am just done with this semester. The reading (oy), the papers (oof), and the stress of having to have it all in by tomorrow (oops). I am wiped out.

So, what do you do when you're feeling the crunch, when you've worked for 8 hours straight on a Sunday to try and get caught up, and you still aren't caught up? I find that drinking helps. Just kidding. Maybe. Okay, so drinking probably isn't a great idea unless you're absolutely finished with all your school work, so I decided to write a little blog post and share some pictures that I took when researching my gender paper. You know, distract myself in a productive-ish way.

The thesis of my gender paper was that hard liquors like whiskey and bourbon are marketed with men in mind, while wines and sweet drinks are targeted toward women, so I needed to do research, right? I trotted off to City-Wide Liquors downtown to take some pictures of different types of bottles to see if I was right (and also just because I like looking at all the different labels). It turns out, I was semi-correct in my thesis. All of the whiskey bottles were definitely targeted at men, with their plain, monotone, and for the most part, boring labels. I do like the name "Death's Door," though, and Harrison is my nephew's name, so YAY. The wines were in large part marketed for female consumers, with feminine names and colors and artwork that appeals to women, but as I walked through City-Wide's extensive collection, I realized that the drier wines usually had more masculine labels than the sweeter wines.

While I took a ton of pictures, I'll just share some of my favorite wine labels with you. For the most part the ones that were my favorites weren't the most feminine choices.

I love the artwork of the one at the left, it's just so cute! I love the lady's pin-up style, and that the man is stepping on her foot. Adorable. This is a bottle I'd buy just for the label. Admit it, you do that sometimes, too, right?

The one at right caught my eye because it's just so different from any other label I've ever seen on a wine bottle. It's kind of creepy, like maybe if you drink this one, you'll be transported to a scary circus run by half-monsters who breathe fire and eat babies.

The one called "Bitch" really caught my eye. I could picture it filling the shopping cart of a maid of honor who's planning a bridal shower or bachelorette party. I imagine it being drunk out of pink, bedazzled goblets by 22-year-old women wearing penis-shaped earrings. They're laughing and yelling at each other obnoxiously, and of course they're calling each other "bitch" and "whore."

I love, love, love the one at right. The colors are just so vivid, and it looks like a poster one may have seen decades ago, advertising the rodeo that was coming to town. From the font to the image, whoever put together this label did an excellent job.

This one at left I loved for its simplicity. The label tells us that it's rare and special, something reserved for only true fans. The B side is a sweet surprise.

So which one did I take home? This one at right, Phantom. It was one of the first bottles I looked at, and it had a spooky little story on the back. Something about going downstairs into a dark basement all alone and feeling like there was someone there waiting for you. It was fairly good, but had a strange aftertaste...a phantom flavor, if you will.

All in all, a fun trip to the liquor store. Also, just so's ya know, the City-Wide on Jefferson holds free wine (and sometimes beer and mead) tastings every Thursday from 5-7 pm. All you need to bring is your I.D. If you like wine, you won't be disappointed. The labels that share their products are always very knowledgeable about their libations. My estimate is that you'll come away from it with a total of two glasses of wine in your gut, and you'll be sure to try at least one that you really like and can take home (or come back for in the future). Here's my advice: go there, taste everything, maybe buy a bottle, then go home and share dinner with your significant other. Voila! Cheap date.

Edited to add: Nate's comment reminded me that I had one more photo to share, but forgot because I saw it on a different trip to the store. This is maybe the funniest name/label for a type of drink ever. After I saw this, I kept thinking of ways someone might add it into conversation. For example, "We went to the liquor store, then went home and had some delicious Hot Sex," or "Do you sell Hot Sex?" I laughed a lot thinking about this. I wondered what it tastes like, so I looked up how to make Hot Sex - The Drink. It includes grenadine, orange juice, and triple sec. Wonder why it's called Hot Sex? Since it's a sweet drink, I assume it's a "girlie" drink. Does it, then, make women want to have sex? What are your thoughts?

A Food Dictionary (yay!)

Hi again everyone!

Okay, so, I've noticed in class that we've brought up time and time again how it is difficult to follow through with some recipes simply because we are not in the area to buy the food product or the tool to make the meal, or simply because we do not know how to use the tool or specifically what that food item in the ingredients list...is.

I'll openly admit that I am in that boat; I just got married this summer, and prior to that, my mother did not allow me to help out or cook in the kitchen hardly at all (unless it was something very simple like making brownies, toasts or hot dogs) simply because of time constraints. So, since then, I've been trying out with my husband many, many, many recipes that I've always wanted to make or even haven't seen before (and that have, fortunately, turned out). But, there are still many things I would like to cook but avoid because of unfamiliar ingredients and such.

So, I did some searching.

I found an online dictionary that is specifically about food and for food preparation. Whether you want to know what that ingredient is or what that tool is used for, you can type it in and read through the results.

I also thought this would be helpful for our food log, because - at least in the cases that I've found - it also lists the origin of the food.

I will admit, however, that I have not compared it yet to other dictionaries to see how consistent the definitions are and am not sure if everything is accurate, but I figured it was a good starting place.

Here's the link: http://www.epicurious.com/tools/fooddictionary

I hope you all find it useful!

A Secret at the McDonald's Headquarters (Rated D for Disturbing)

Hi everyone,

So, I was wandering around online the other day and discovered the link that I have posted below about McDonald's. You remember that little piece of trivia that Coca-Cola can remove rust from a vehicle? This is up there in that disturbing arena; the McDonald's signature burger takes years to decompose (if, in theory, it ever decomposes).

Now, I'll warn you, there are a lot of discrepancies. Some readers bought right in to this woman's story and photo series, but others believe that she took pictures of different burgers over time and that there is no way that food would be sold that's potentially so harmful.

Also, McDonald's stated that they do not use preservatives (which, of course they're going to say that! What else are they going to say? "Yes, we are damaging your liver"?). However, there is a book floating around out there in library/cyberspace somewhere that's dedicated to just how McDonald's food is made (how all the fries are all the same size and color, pretty consistently, etc), which doesn't prove McDonald's as preservative-free at all. . .

I haven't actually read that book yet, and I'll get back to you on the name of the book once I've found it (it was recommended to me a few years ago now), but something I did in place of that was go to Google and type in how "McDonald's cheeseburgers are made" (and then you can factor in french fries or what have you). Again, there are a lot of discrepancies, but that doesn't mean it isn't interesting to think about. . .

Finally, here's the link: http://news.yahoo.com/s/yblog_upshot/20101012/bs_yblog_upshot/mcdonalds-happy-meal-resists-decomposition-for-six-months

Roland Barthes: Sexiest Man Alive?

I'm obviously not looking for any class credit for this post. I just wanted to let you all know that Roland Barthes looks exactly how I pictured him.

Also, I bet he smells like musk and cognac.

Five Foods I Intend to Never Outgrow

There are some foods that I think we accept as a society for children to eat. Strange combinations that somehow are okay as long as the person creating and/or consuming them is under the age of 15. Sometimes, certain foods seem to be prone to certain generations. This last bit became pretty clear to me today through today's big story in the Dining section the New York Times that I immediately tested its claim of recognition on my nearly 12 year old daughter.

"Syd?" I called.
"What?" she replied.
"Have you ever heard of spaghetti tacos?" I inquired because I certainly hadn't.
"Yeah." she mumbled.
"From where?" I continued.
"iCarly." she responded.

A program that has nothing to do with food, on a channel we don't have that also has nothing to do with food is shaping mealtime for kids across the country. According to the article, blogs and websites galore offer a multitude of variations for spaghetti tacos. Here is a link to the full article:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/06/dining/06tacos.html?_r=1

In the spirit of this article, I compiled a small list of foods/food combos from my childhood that I just cannot part with:

1. Ketchup on my mac & cheese. Maybe it's because I'm a quarter Canadian, but this combination is a staple for me. Mac & cheese isn't actually ready to be consumed until it is covered in ketchup.

2. Potato chips on a variety of sandwiches. Whether I'm sitting down to a nice PB&J or a deli-type sandwich, it just isn't complete without that extra crunch. (I don't think this deserves an additional category because it just seems to be a variation, but I also put french fries on my burgers as well.)

3. Magic Shell. I'm not sure which of my parents brought this bit of sorcery into my life, but since I was a small child, ice cream (or sherbet) is more exciting with Magic Shell. For those of you not familiar with Magic Shell, it's a chocolate sauce that hardens on your cold ice cream. Magic Shell is also on my list of "Meanest Things Done by an Ex-": #5 She put my Magic Shell in the refrigerator.

4. Dipping Wendy's french fries into Wendy's Frosty's. Once upon a time I used to do that with my chicken nuggets, too, but I've since become allergic to chicken. There really is no point to eating at Wendy's unless you plan to eat your fries and your Frosty together.

5. I love Spaghettio's. Special combinations in my Spaghettio's include, adding crackers, adding cheese, adding hot sauce, adding avocado, or adding all of these things.

I’m sure that all of us have our favorite restaurants, right? How about favorite hangout spots? You know, places where you could stay for hours, just carrying on with friends, or maybe listen to a live band, drinking beer or wine and having a good ol’ time. What if I told you there was a place where you could do all these things?

One of my favorite places to visit for a night out is right here in South Bend. It’s a little Irish pub called Fiddler’s Hearth, and if you’ve never been there, it’s definitely worth giving a try. Not only do they have delicious, traditional Irish food, they also serve burgers, salads, and amazing desserts. That doesn't even include the drinks available…thirty-six different types of beer (including Guinness, of course), and sixty-four different types of whiskey! Not to mention several wines and spirited coffees, and sometimes they have stouts that have been aged in whiskey casks. (Read: STRONG, not for the lightweights!)

My first trip to Fiddler’s was on a second or third date with a fireman. He was younger, and I think he was trying to show off how refined and worldly he was (ha!), but I immediately fell in love with the cozy atmosphere and the Pear and Walnut Salad. The fireman didn’t last very long, but thus began my love for “the Hearth.” It became my place, and one that the man in my life and I visit often; we hung out there together as friends before we started dating. For a while, we were there every week; we’d eat a cheap dinner somewhere else, then go listen to live music and have a drink or two at the pub on Thursday nights - the one night a week that I had a babysitter.

If you decide to give Fiddler’s a try, here are some tips:

• · They get extremely busy during lunch and dinner times (12-1 and about 6:30-9), so it may be a good idea to either call ahead for a reservation or go in at an off-peak hour.

• · Be prepared to sit next to strangers. The seating is family style, so there are long tables and pews to sit on. You most likely won't be seated by a hostess or server, just look for an open spot and grab it. Think of it as an opportunity to meet new friends!

• · Be nice to the waitresses! There are usually only 2 or 3 servers for the entire restaurant, so be patient. Tip well (no less than 15%, and 20% for great service is my motto).

• · The menu can get a bit pricey, especially when you factor in drinks, meal, and dessert, so be prepared. It’s a bit cheaper to just go for lunch and keep the drinks and dessert out, or maybe go out for drinks and dessert after a supper at home.

• · If you see a man with white hair, beard, and newsboy cap, it’s probably the owner.

• · Try and visit on a night when Andyman Hopkins is playing. He’s fun and friendly, and you’ll have a great time. Alligator Blackbird plays there from time to time, as well.

Personal favorite menu items:

• · Whiskey sours. They never skimp on the whiskey here, so I don’t have to spend a lot of money on drinks. No worries - I never, ever drive after drinking! My companions usually have beer, either Guiness or Bells Two-Hearted IPA. There’s always something new to try, and always something on special.

• · Fish and Chips is a must. I have never been disappointed when I ordered this meal, which consists of a salad or soup choice, either 3 or 4 beer battered cod fillets, and chips (French fries). The breading is always crispy and the fillets inside tender and moist. Mouth-watering!

• · The Pear and Walnut Salad is to die for. Dark, leafy greens with sliced pears, walnuts, bleu cheese and grilled chicken topped with vanilla vinaigrette, it’s perfect during warm weather. I love this salad so much that I found a recipe for a version of vanilla vinaigrette online and began making it myself.

• · Their bread pudding is the best I’ve ever tasted. It always comes out warm, with a whiskey cream sauce, and it usually takes 3-4 people to eat it all.

So, if you're looking for a new place to try, why not Fiddler's? They have great food, tons of drink choices, they're family-friendly, and smoke-free. Take a gander at their website, where you'll find lunch and dinner menus, a drink menu, calendar of events, and pictures.

How about you, what are some of YOUR favorite places around here? Yes, I'm looking at YOU. Leave a comment and let us know!

**Disclaimer** Photos taken by camera phone.

Just a few links that might be helpful...

This is about some food myths:

http://food.change.org/blog/view/8_misleading_food_label_terms_every_eater_should_know

This is about fish farmers:

http://http://food.change.org/blog/view/do_fish_farms_offer_sustainable_solutions

And finally, some coffee commercials from the 80's. Apparently, these two people can really sell coffee. The 1st link is an example of the Taster's Choice commercial series that we had here in the States, and the second is what I'm guessing they had over in Great Britain:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpOBFELO0Qc&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=igi9u6X4y-s&NR=1

Have fun!

Nancy Willard's "How to Stuff a Pepper"

"Now, said the cook, I will teach you
how to stuff a pepper with rice.

Take your pepper green, and gently,
for peppers are shy. No matter which side
you approach, it's always the backside.
Perched on green buttocks, the pepper sleeps
In its silk tights, it dreams
of sommersaults and parsley,
 of the days when the sexes were one.

Slash open the sleeve
as if you were cutting a paper lantern,
and enter a moon, spilled like like a melon,
a fever of pearls,
a conversation of glaciers.
It is a temple built to the worship
of morning light.

I have sat under the great globe
of seeds on the roof of that chamber,
too dazzled to gather the taste I came for.
I have taken the pepper in hand,
smooth and blind, a runt in the rich
evolution of roses and ferns.
You say I have not yet taught you

to stuff a pepper?
Cooking takes time.

Next time we'll consider the rice."

Nancy Willard

From "Confessions of an Eater"

"I remember the first time I ate compulsively. I was seventeen years old, not yet an introspective person. I had no language or vocabulary for what was happening to me. The issue of compulsive eating had not yet become a matter of public confession. Looking back I can say: 'That was the day my neurosis began.' But at the time, if I knew the word at all, I would not have known to apply it to myself.

I was in Berlin, sitting at the breakfast table with my American roommate and our German landlords. I remember the day vividly, the wind blows, the curtain lifts on the window, a beam of sunlight crosses the room and stops just at the spout of the teapot. A single, amber drop becomes luminous at the tip of the spout. I feel that I am about to remember something and then, unaccountably, I am moved to tears. But I do not cry. I say nothing. I look furtively around me, hoping this wave of strong feeling has not been observed. And then, I am eating. My hand is reaching out. And the movement, even in the first few moments, seems driven and compulsive. I am not hungry. I had pushed away my plate moments beofre. But my hand is reaching and I know that I am reaching for something that has been lost. I hope for much from the food that is on the table before me but suddenly it seems to me that nothing will ever still this hunger--an immense implacable craving that I do not remember having felt before.

Suddenly, I realize that I am putting too much butter on my breakfast roll. I am convinced that everyone is looking at me. I put down the butter knife. I break off a piece of the roll and put it in my mouth. But it seem to me that I am wolfing it down. That I am devouring it.

I notice, with alarm, that Olga is beginning to clear the table. Unable to control myself, I lurch forward, reach out for another roll and pull the butter plate closer to myself. Everyone laughs and I am mortified. I am blushing the way I have not blushed since I was twelve or thirteen years old. I feel trapped and I want to go on eating. I must go on eating. An yet I feel an acute and terrible self-consciousness."

                                                                     Kim Chernin from "Confessions of an Eater"

The Apron

The Apron

By Stephanie C. Merryfield

Four cups of flour…four tablespoons of natural sugar cane… one and a half cups of butter milk… two tablespoons of Clabber Girl baking powder & half a cup of soft, real butter.

This was the start of Nana’s biscuit bread. The buttermilk was one of the ugliest sights the eye could conceive in a kitchen¾clotted and slightly yellow. The smell could tumble a horse. It was only a little less sickening than flies lighting on runny, decaying road kill under the mid-day sun of July. Yet to her it was familiar. She kneaded the dough across the countertop of this small southern home, ignoring the smell.

It was the last small modular to be put in place on Rochelle Road, since the departure of eight of the children for the city. Some, mostly the boys, went to Gary, Indiana. But the girls, they stayed closer to home. Jackson, Tennessee had been home to the Chism’s since the emancipation. To her, the three hundred, thirty acres represented a legacy. Her mind wandered to recessed areas, still covered with evergreens. She kneaded more intently. This home was a gift. What exactly had she received?

This rural place was unlike the home on the farm. She wiped her hands feverishly on the apron. She wiped off of her fingers the loss that culminated in the bank’s foreclosure on the acreage. She wiped from underneath her fingernails the memories of her vegetable garden that had helped to feed thirteen children. She wiped onto the apron flesh that had soothed her husband’s weary brow for over sixty years. Hubert always wanted to be touched. That was his love language; of course the eight girls and five boys she birthed at home evidenced that.

Hubert was a very determined man. He convinced her at nineteen that he would love her always. Savera consented. He purchased the acreage with sobriety and ambition. He wasn’t contented to be a sharecropper. During the winter’s to supplement his income, he left for the city.

“Savera, you’re a good woman.” Those words were of little comfort now.

“Slam,” sounded the oven door, threatening to come off the hinge and burn her ankle. She winced at the thought of the casket door being closed over him during the funeral services. She thought this time he would come home, too, but no. Many times before, he had been in the hospital and had always come home.

“Pneumonia,” the doctor concluded sternly. She said this without compassion, almost blankly before leaving the hospital room.

Savera attempted to encourage the children and their children who had all gathered anxiously in the tiny sterile space. She, however, received little comfort that evening as she watched him slip from this life to another unceremoniously. The two were as they had been before they started a family, alone.

The bread would bake for fifty minutes. This bread has always been comfort food for her children, her grandchildren and her husband. Now, perhaps it would be of comfort to her as well. She removed the old apron and placed it, for the first time in many years, into a drawer¾out of the way. She knew she would not use it as often now. The bread’s fragrance filled the nearly empty house with memories.

Acquiring the Taste: Gender Assumptions of Beer in America

I’ll never forget my first beer, I was sixteen. Now, every sixteen year old knows that there are two things you have to have to get your hands on a case of beer. You need a tall friend named Brian with a pubescent beard and a cheap fake I.D., and a liquor store with a lazy cashier. Luckily for my friends and me, we had both. With victory achieved, and our case of warm Natural Ice in hand, we retired to my friend Tadd’s basement where we planned to hang out, play video games and, thanks to Brian, drink in the orange light of the awful 70’s era wood paneling. As we sat, huddled around the TV, spoiling our innocence playing Vice City, Tadd cracked open a beer and handed it to me. I stared at it, unsure of what to make of its shiny round exterior. Inside the can was this mysterious liquid, it looked like urine, and smelled like it too. I looked up from the can to see Tadd looking at me with an expectant look on his face; so without a second thought I tilted up the can and took my first drink. It was awful, just awful, my previous estimation of it’s smell turned out to be all too true. The strangest thing about my first experience with beer is that I didn’t stop with one, but had four or five throughout the course of the night, and have been drinking it ever since.

My story isn’t unique. A person’s first beer is a kind of right of passage in America, this especially true for teenage males. There is a cultural expectation placed on teenagers by their peer group to drink, and to drink beer. In this case, beer serves as a symbol for masculinity. When we were drinking in high school, we weren’t drinking beer, we were drinking masculinity, because “men” drink beer. As teenagers, boys construct a view of what is masculine from any number of sources, popular culture, peer influence, or the action and tendencies of their father to name just a few. Fabio Parasecoli discusses societies conceptions of masculinity in an essay called “Feeding Hard Bodies: Food and Masculinities in Men’s Fitness Magazines.” Of the shifting nature of the perception of masculinity, he writes, “Masculinities are not fixed or defined once and for all; they do not represent embodiments of discrete states of being. They vary in time and place, in different historical, social and cultural environments”(188).

Cultural perceptions of masculinity are not always accurate. Beer is a perfect example of this. If one were to take a random survey consisting of an equal number of men and women, it is not at all unlikely that the number of people who claim to enjoy beer would be roughly the same. However, beer continues to have a predominantly masculine cultural conception. Take for example a phrase we’ve all heard, “girlie drink” which is generally used to describe any mixed drink which is not in its majority, beer or whiskey. Teacher, writer, and semiologist Roland Barthes, author of essay “Toward a Psychosociology of Contemporary Food Consumption” offers some help explaining these kinds of cultural labels. He writes, “Food [or drink] serves as a sign not only for themes, but also for situations; and this, all told, means for a way of life that is emphasized, much more than expressed, by it. To [drink] is a behavior that develops beyond its own ends, replacing, summing up, and signalizing other behaviors”(Barthes 33). I didn’t drink my first beer because I liked beer, I drank it because I wanted to be perceived as masculine. I was engaging in a behavior, not enjoying a beverage. From this perspective it can be seen that the consumption of beer, and its culturally gendered connotations have little to do with taste in actuality, but with an expected set of behaviors. The image of beer in the U.S. is one of incredible masculine stereotypes, from advertisements with giant, scantily clad women astride the the Rocky mountains, to millions of dollars in sponsorships of activities like Pro Football, and Nascar. When beer is marketed to women it is usually in the form of the beer/fruit hybrids that are growing in popularity. This is because beer, as it is traditionally brewed, is assumed by the culture to signify the masculine, and to market it otherwise would undermine its supposed gender significance.

I kept drinking that night at my friends house because it felt good, it made me feel like a grown-up, and it made me feel like a “man”. Mostly however, I drank because I felt like I should, like it was what I was expected to do, because I was a man. In my mind, men drank beer. So I drank, and even though I hated it, I kept drinking it, and i kept drinking it, and I drink it today. The most unbelievable thing is, I now love it. As I sit writing, next to my computer a cold bottle of Samuel Adams Octoberfest, a seasonal brew that is one of the highlights of my fall, sits slowly sweating onto the coaster that my wife makes me use. I’ve had a beer in every state I’ve ever been in, and I’ve sampled exotic beers from around the globe, from German Lagers that go down smooth, to Indian brown ales that will pucker you for hours. I never would have experienced any of them, if I hadn’t made myself learn to like beer. I don’t know that the cultural gender bias of beer is a good thing, it is certainly not an accurate thing, and it may be changing. Even if it does change, young adults will likely continue to force themselves to drink that strange yellow beverage called beer, and learn to love it, and that is not such a bad thing.

Dexter Premier :):)

So, I've been down and out for about the past week.... very sudden wisdom tooth extraction that I was in no way, shape, or form ready to encounter. Pretty much everything that could go wrong with the extraction...did.

Alas, I am still under strict instruction to consume only soft foods. This can become rather inconvenient as cottage cheese....ice cream....and soup become rather boring after the first few days. See, I love food...all kinds; and I'm running out of soft foods to try. I suppose I could attempt mixing them all in a blender, but, I'm not too sure how that would pan out. :)

Anyway... as some of you may know (since we talked about him in an in class exercise a couple weeks ago) that Season 5 of Dexter premiered last night... I'm a new fan of the show, and watched the first 4 seasons on DVD.....so I was very excited to watch the new season in suspense along with the rest of the Dexter fan-base. In honor of the premier, I wanted to have a big party and invite all my Dexter loving friends over. BUT, I was still pretty weak, and wasn't much fun, so I decided against it. Nevertheless, my lively spirit could not be dampened and I decided a little quiet baking wasn't going to hurt too bad....plus, cupcakes are a soft food...right?

Those of you who enjoy the show will understand the meaning... for those of you who don't I'll just give a quick synopses. Dexter is a blood spatter analysis for the Miami PD by day...and a serial killer by night. Don't worry though...he only kills those who slip through the justice system (usually :) ). He wraps them up in plastic wrap, and gives them a quick and painless death, plus, they deserve it, so we never feel bad for his victims.

So.....

I baked red velvet cupcakes, frosted them white, and splattered them with red food coloring.....only after I wrapped a pan in plastic wrap of course! So here you have it ladies and gentleman.... Samantha's red velvet blood spattered Dexter season 5 premier cupcakes!!! :




<----All ready to bake!
Mmmmm.... yum :)

<-----Did Dexter Morgan visit the apartment?


<------I'd be caught red handed :)